


The Kingdom of Dawn

by ArtistActressAthena



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst with a Happy Ending, Deceit's name is Hydall, Fluff, M/M, Royalty AU, Slight Angst?, but you knew that, okay a lot of angst, there's also gay stuff, there's magic and stuff too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2019-08-08 02:03:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 27,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16420265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtistActressAthena/pseuds/ArtistActressAthena
Summary: After tragedy struck The Kingdom of Dawn, the humans and the magic-wielders (also known as wixen) became bitterly divided. The two groups went to war over the conflict, and after two difficult years, the humans were ultimately victorious. The grief-stricken King Ryden banished all wixen from his kingdom, forcing them into the woods beyond its borders. The kingdom that had once embraced the magical people was now treating them like dirt.Ryden tried to pass on his resentful ideals to his son, but after a couple misadventures, the spirited Prince Roman has his own set of ideals. Along with the sagacious royal adviser Logan, Logan's optimistic best friend Patton, and the anxious albeit caring warlock Virgil, Roman is just beginning to realize he's history in the making -- evil lurks behind every corner, and it might be up to him and his friends to bring his father's broken kingdom back together.*Updates at random*





	1. Backgrounds, Concepts, and World Building Info

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone!  
> This is an idea/story I've been working on for a while and I hope you enjoy it!

There's a lot of backstory and context needed for this story so here's some background info.

So the world itself has

**Humans.**  These people do not have the power to control magic. They’re ordinary and have ordinary appearances.

Note: Humans refer to just the people who cannot wield magic; people can refer to both humans and magic-wielders. The fact that these words are not synonymous will help you understand the story a bit better.

**Normal animals and plants.** This is pretty self-explanatory.

**Magic-wielders.** These are the people with the power to control magic, also referred to as wixen.

Note: A warlock is a male magic-wielder and a witch is a female magic-wielder. Both of these terms can be used in plural (warlocks, witches) to refer to two or more magic-wielders of the same gender. Wixen is a gender-neutral term and can be used to refer to a magic-wielder of a non-binary or unspecified gender, and/or a group of magic-wielders.

 

Each wixen’s magic is a different color. The color of their magic determines the color of their eyes. Their color also determines what kind of powers they’ll have. The color meanings are pretty specific, but I’ll probably write more about that later. For now, just have a “simplified” list. _(If you either don’t want to read all this/want to figure out the powers on your own, skip this and scroll to the bolded_ **Origin Story** _.)_

 

Note: A group of wixen in the same color category can be referred to with [insert color] wixen (i.e. red-orange wixen) or just the plural of the color (i.e. off-blues)

**Browns, tans, and earth/skin tones (including grays):** Least powerful; they have industrial-like magic (electricity, levitation, unlocking doors, etc.). Hazel is included in this category.

**Off-reds and red-oranges:** Power is directly tied to a type of inanimate object; they can create it, destroy it, and give it sentience. Many of them carry a wand or staff made out of their object.

**Oranges, yellow-oranges, and off-yellows:** Power allows them to shapeshift; some can shift into inanimate objects (into-inanimate), some into animals or plants (into-creature), and some into humans or wixen (into-person), but never a combination of two or all three.

**Yellow-greens:** Power is tied to nature; some can talk to animals and/or plants, some have animal-like abilities like UV vision, enhanced hearing, or flight, and some can photosynthesize.

**Off-greens, teals, and turquoises:** These are more comic book-esque powers such as invisibility, flight, super speed, etc. Off-greens and teals are more likely to have multiple abilities, while turquoises are more likely to have just one.

**Off-blues, indigos, and off-violets:** Power is connected to time and the mind; the psychics. Some can read minds, some can create illusions, and some can predict the future, among other things. You only ever have one of these, never a combination.

**Red-violets and pinks:** Power is connected to love. Most have the “matchmaker ability” (they can easily detect who is compatible with who) and can create good-luck charms and positive vibe spells for nervous dates. A few can make people fall in love, but that’s pretty rare. Most of them are queer (if not, then they’re queer allies).

**Precious metals:** Powers allow them to heal themselves and others. Most can heal physical pain, but some have been able to heal mental and emotional pain as well.

**Pure reds, pure greens, and pure blues:** Elemental wielders; they can wield fire, earth, and water, respectively. They can create and control their element, but they cannot destroy it.

**Pure yellows:** Powers allow them to fully manipulate the minds of animals, humans, and most other wixen. This is a dangerous power, both to have and be up against.

**Pure blacks and pure whites:** Powers are very weak on their own, but when paired with their opposite, pure whites can control light and accomplish any mental task (excepting pure yellow wixen’s mind control). Pure blacks can control air and accomplish any physical task. Normally seen in twins, soulmates, or very close friends. If one dies, however, the other is stripped of their powers.

**Pure violets:** Most powerful; they can make others always tell the truth, and they can call upon the skies and shake the earth to its roots. They’re the only ones who can resist the yellows’ mind control. This is the only color of magic one is not born with; they must obtain it during their life. Many have tried, failed, and have been stripped of their powers. Only two have ever succeeded.

Note: All wixen have the power to make light. This is something that can never be taken away from them. When a magic-wielder is “stripped of their powers”, they can create light and do nothing else.

 

**Origin Story**

The Kingdom of Dawn was a peaceful place for many, many years. The humans and wixen lived together in the kingdom’s borders, and the few people who remember that time would even say the humans and magic-wielders lived in harmony. King Leo and Queen Valerie ruled together, and their rule was firm but kind. This harmony, however, could not last for long.

Tragedy struck the royal family early on. King Leo fell ill and passed away when his three children, Jay, Rose, and Ryden, were sixteen, fourteen, and thirteen. Queen Valerie took over quickly and did a fantastic job of completing the king’s duties as well as her own. Many would argue that she was one of the greatest rulers of all time.

One day, however, someone decided that this lack of chaos simply wouldn’t do. Twenty years ago, on the tenth anniversary of the king’s death, pure yellow warlock Hydall managed to infiltrate the castle’s defenses, take control of Valerie’s mind, and make her murder Prince Jay, who at this point was only twenty-six years old. After she realized what she’d done, Hydall convinced her to kill herself from the guilt, leaving Princess Rose, Prince Ryden, and Ryden’s girlfriend Avery on their own; a fiercely determined Rose declared war on the wixen. In the midst of this war, Ryden and Avery got married – they hadn’t really wanted a fancy ceremony anyway – and Rose disappeared to search for Hydall and avenge the deaths of her mother and brother. The war lasted for two horribly long years, and that is where our story begins…


	2. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: violence, minor character death

Eighteen Years Ago 

_[POV: Marin]_

All I can see is smoke.

I can see smoke, and tendrils of fire are snaking their way around every tree and blade of grass they touch. Along with all the human and wixen casualties of the war, the forest was getting its fair share of hits as well.

I can see a blur through the smoke. Austin works to put out the fires, blue eyes shining as they do. They’ll be alright.

All I can hear is bullets.

I can hear gunfire, and the voices of people’s minds screaming out in terror.

 I can hear Harper. I can hear her saying in her head, _Dodge this bullet, dodge that bullet, run run run. You can live._ I see her magic glow turquoise as she defends. She’ll be alright, I hope.

I can hear Blake. _Shift into stone._ Then nothing. _Shift into iron._ Then nothing. _Shift back into warlock._ Then nothing but pain. I hear him scream, both in his head and out loud. I try to rush to his side, but I’m pushed back by Monica. Blake’s been hit in the shoulder by the enemy, and all our healers have been captured or killed. Monica is thinking the same thing as me as she desperately tries to keep him breathing.

_There’s no way he’ll survive._

I can feel his orange eyes go dark. I can hear his mind dim, and then fade out into nothing. There’s no sound.

My husband has been killed, and I see red.

I pick up an abandoned enemy gun, but it falls onto the burning grass with a thud as I hear someone call my name. Out loud, not just in their head.

“Marin!”

I turn and wince as I snag my forearm on the burning briar. Standing there is Austin, face full of rage. “What are you doing out here?!”

“I’m getting a free preview of what hell looks like,” I deadpan. “Seems pretty warm, don’t you think?”

 _Fucking idiot._ Austin doesn’t say it, but I hear it. “I think you’re being –”

“A fucking idiot, yeah, we’ve established that.” I hear a cannon. A ball of flaming wood lands no more than five feet away and my pants catch flame. Austin struggles but manages to put out both fires.

“Marin, you shouldn’t be out here.”

“Why not?”

 _Because, one, you can’t read into your enemy’s every move, two, your husband – the most strategic soldier we had – just got killed by a single bullet, and three \-- _they gesture to my stomach – “you’re _pregnant._ ”

That last part is the only part they say out loud.

“Only a few weeks,” I mutter as the enemy sends out melee soldiers. Austin puts a hand on my shoulder.

“Look,” they say, and then I read their thoughts so they can save their oxygen. _Joan and Talyn have already escaped with Nia. Right now, the only little people we have left are Joan, Talyn, and your unborn kid. I get you want to fight, but that kid of yours could change everything. You need to keep it alive, and then you need to keep yourself alive to raise it, because you’re the only parent it has left._

I nod. I understand. “Good luck,” I say.

I flee to the forest as a flaming tree falls.

We’re going to lose this war.

.o0o.

_[POV: 3 rd (Ryden)]_

_We’re going to win this war,_ Prince Ryden thinks to himself. _The odds are in our favor._

_Just watch. They’ll pay for what they’ve done to my family._

He walks out to the castle balcony and overlooks the flaming fields as he watches the hard-fought battle between magic and machine. Flashes of light are put to rest by cannon fire; magic shields are destroyed by bullets.

The wixen with silver, gold, bronze, and copper eyes, the generals figured out, are the healers. They were the first to be captured, and later, hanged. Everyone else had a great deal of trouble without the healers assisting them. Ryden clenched the balcony railing and gritted his teeth.

“Rose would give them a command, I should –”

“No, we must wait,” a strong voice says.

Ryden follows it back into the palace, where his beautiful wife Avery is lying on their bed, hands on her ever-growing stomach.

“Rose departed months ago,” he whispers. He’s getting scared now.

“Four months and twenty-four days, to be exact,” Avery says. “She declared she would find and destroy the yellow-eyed warlock who killed Prince Jay. Your sister’s a strong fighter, Ryden. She’ll be alright.”

“My sister is a strong fighter, Avery,” Ryden all but hisses in return. “She should have finished the job and returned by now.”

“Ryden, she’ll –”

“No!” he yells. “She has to come back! I…” he collapses in his chair. “I’m not ready. I’m not ready to go through this again.”

“Come here, my love,” Avery says, and of course Ryden obeys. He leans over and pushes back a piece of her golden hair, and when he looks into her deep brown eyes they are filled with nothing but love. She grabs his hand.

“We will get through this,” Avery says confidently. “I understand that it’s been hard. No one should have to lose their mother and older brother in such a short span of time. It’s ridiculous for anyone to think that you could be completely fine in the midst of all this. But you have your son.” She pats her stomach. “And when he enters the world, you’re going to love him and love him and give him everything he needs and wants, and he’s going to love you just as much as I do.”

Ryden freezes. “You’re going to love him too.”

Avery sighs. “Ryden, you can’t avoid the obvious. Your sister hasn’t returned yet. I get sicker every day. You also can’t avoid the ‘I don’t knows’. I don’t know if Rose will come back. I don’t know if I’ll survive long enough to see our son grow up. I don’t know if you’ll go mad because of it. But on the chance that neither I nor your sister survive, you will have a kingdom to lead and a son to raise all on your own, and if you think you’re not good enough a reason to try to stay strong, your kingdom and your son will have to be.”

“Neither of you will die,” Ryden chokes out. “I won’t allow it. I can’t lose you too. Not on top of all of this, _I won’t let it!_ ” He pounds his fists against the bed and starts letting loose his tears. And Avery starts crying with him, and they stay there, crying for everything that’s happened.

So many of his sister’s people have been killed. Then again, a great deal of wixen have been killed as well.

And then he hears it, ringing across the battlefield.

“We surrender.”

Avery gestures at him to go, and when he walks to the balcony and looks out to the blood-stained ground, he sees a white flag waving through the smoke.

It’s being held by a person with eyes far too blue to be human.

Ryden smirks and walks back to Avery’s side as the few remaining magic-wielders run to the woods.

“Ryden, dear, did we win?” Avery asks.

Ryden gives her a soft, teary smile.

“Yes, my love. We won.”

.o0o.

_[POV: 3 rd (Logan)]_

Logan watches from the study window as some soldiers carry a body up the path to the castle. He lost his glasses, so he can’t see very well. But it kind of looks like Her Majesty Princess Rose.

He leaps down from the window seat and trips on his shoelaces. As he hurries to tie them, he hears the guards talking to His Majesty Prince Ryden. He sees reddish blurs that look like burn marks on the body’s legs, which is rather odd; the war had ended two months ago.

“Sir, we’re so sorry…we found her by the foot of a willow tree. There was nothing we could do.”

He sees a faint black blur that looks like his glasses on the ground. After picking them up and discovering that yes, they are his glasses, he walks over to the soldiers and says, “I think I see burn marks on her legs.”

One of the soldiers looks down at him with a smirk. “Say, aren’t you the kid of know-it-all Woods? How old are you, five?”

“I’m six,” Logan says confidently, “ _and I see burn marks on her legs_.”

“Why don’t you do us all a favor and don’t go poking your little brat nose into business that’s not yours?” a second soldier says.

“YOU DID NOTHING?!” A roar breaks the argument. “SHE GOT BURNED UP AND YOU DID NOTHING?!”

Logan’s eyes widen. His Majesty Prince Ryden was the one who yelled? He’s never see royalty get mad before. He squeaks and hides behind a statue.

“Sir, she was already dead when we came upon her, there was nothing we could –”

“Then you should have gotten there sooner,” His Majesty says through his teeth. “She was the only blood family I had left, and you let her die.”

“Sir, we believe she was killed by the same yellow-eyed warlock that killed Queen Valerie and Prince Jay,” a third soldier says quickly. The prince glares at him, and he rushes to say, “WearesosorryweshouldhavereachedyoursistersoonerYourMajest--”

“Build a gate.”

“What was that, sir?” the second soldier asks.

“I’m King now, am I not? I _said,_ build a goddamn gate. And a fence. Build it on the kingdom borders, near the woods. Make sure it’s impenetrable.” Logan swears he sees something in the Prince’s – right, _King’s_ – eyes turn darker. “Let it be known that as long as I rule here, no magic-wielders shall ever enter my kingdom without consequence.” He turns and puts a hand on the body’s shoulder. “I don’t want any of them to hurt any of my people again.”

He starts up the stairs, then stops. He turns to the soldiers. “Rose never wanted a proper ceremony,” he says. “All she did want was to be buried with Father. Put her there.” The soldiers and the body disappear. The King starts to go up the stairs again before calling out, “There _were_ burns on her legs. Excellent sleuthing, little one.” Then he’s gone too.

Despite everything that’s going on, Logan lets himself smile a little.

.o0o.

_[POV: ???]_

You will knock me down again. I have no faith.

For now, I mustn’t rest and I mustn’t plan.

That is not the only way. I will not have a fighting chance.

My plan starts with making sure everyone knows where I am.

You will knock me down again. I have no faith.


	3. Birthdays, Discoveries, and Newfound Friends

Eight Years Ago

_[POV: 3 rd (Roman)]_

“But why _not?_ ” Roman whined, latching onto his father’s hand and trying to drag him to the fence.

“Roman Avery Sanders, I said I would give you a tour of the kingdom,” his father responded. “Not what lies beyond it.”

“But it’s my _birthday_ ,” Roman tried again. “Pleeeeeeeease?” He gave his father his most pleading look.

“My answer is no, and that’s final,” his father declared. “I don’t care if it’s your tenth birthday or your ten thousandth birthday; _you are not leaving the kingdom’s borders_.”

“Mother would have let me do it,” Roman muttered under his breath. His father’s eyes widened, then narrowed, and Roman got scared. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I messed up, didn’t I?”

His father sighed. “Yes. Yes you did.” Roman sunk his shoulders dejectedly and started to turn back towards the kingdom when his father said, “However.”

A little bit of hope bloomed inside Roman as he ran back to his father’s side. “Yeah?”

His father smiled and took Roman’s hand. “Your mother probably would have let you in. Just once. Just to see it for a little while.”

Roman felt himself light up. “Really?!”

His father nodded. “Really. Before we go into the forest, though, I must warn you about something.”

Roman looked up at him. “What?”

His father’s gaze turned dark as he kneeled to Roman’s level and put a calloused hand on each of his shoulders. “There are dangerous beings that live here, Roman. These beings are unlike you and me. They can wield magic.”

“That sounds really cool to me!”

“Yes, I suppose it is… _cool_. But you have to understand something. They can and will use their magic against you if they must. Many innocent people have died at the hands of these magic-wielders, or wixen, if you will. That is why we were forced to banish them in the first place.”

“I get it, Father.” Roman had heard the stories of the war that had happened only months before he was born, and how his grandmother, uncle, and aunt had died because of magic – either directly or indirectly. He found it confusing that his father blamed all wixen for the work of only a few of their kind, but his father did know best.

Roman’s father rose and looked down at him. “You may talk to them if you wish, but you mustn’t leave my sight. Do I make myself clear?” Roman nodded, and his father opened the cast-iron gates.

.o0o.

_[POV: Virgil]_

Honestly, all I really wanted was to sit by my tree and be left alone. And normally, that’s what I get. The other kids don’t like me very much. Well, Joan and Talyn are nice to me, but since they’re so deeply connected by their powers, they spend a lot of time hanging out together, working on extra-special pure white/pure black wixen stuff. And then there’s Leslie, Kian, and Orion. I don’t hate them – I don’t hate anybody – but for some reason they really like hating me.

I get teased and picked on a lot because I’m an earth-tone warlock. Although we’re the least powerful color, most earth-tone warlocks can do something remotely useful. But I can barely lift a rock off of the ground, so I’m pretty much useless. But hey, when I make light it crackles and flickers like lightning, so I guess it’s not all bad.

Anyway, I was just sitting under my tree, trying for the love of all that’s good in the world to do something useful with my magic, when a bunch of chatter erupted from the fire circle. And so began one of the weirdest things to happen in the nine and a half years of my pathetic existence.

“Virgil!” Marin – my mom – rushed over to my tree and grabbed me by the sleeve of my fraying jacket, yanking me to my feet. I don’t like making eye contact with anybody – even looking in my mom’s eyes for too long makes me nervous, as pretty of a blue as they are. Instead, looking down at my muddy boots and muttering, “What’s going on?” seemed like a better option.

Mom lifted up my chin with her fingers. “Virgil, seriously, this is important. The King is coming to the Forest.”

My eyes widened at that. I’d only ever heard bad stuff about King Ryden. He hated us – he made that clear when he forced us into these woods. That happened a little after my mom had gotten pregnant with me, I think. According to my mom, the first couple of winters out here were really rough. They barely had any shelter, and it was so cold.

I was born that first winter. My mom says if it weren’t for Nia and her incredible midwife skills, neither of us would be alive. And if we hadn’t had Austin, we’d probably all be dead, because until I was five, they were our only source of water for a really long distance. The woods were _that bad_.

Which brought me back to: Why would the King be coming to us? We were a little more put together – we have houses and stuff – so unless he’s kicking us out – I felt myself tensing up. _Oh no oh no oh no is he going to kick us out?_

“I don’t think so, Virgil,” Mom said, stroking my hair. “Shhh. Calm down. It’s okay.”

I wrapped my arms around her – I only came up to her stomach, but that was okay. She hugged me back, and I made a little smile. I don’t smile very much. “I love you, Mom,” I muttered into her stomach.

“I love you too, Virgil.”

My mom is pretty awesome.

She took my hand, and together, we walked to the fire circle, where Austin and Nia were leading a discussion of what to do when the King arrived. “Nia, do you hear anything else?” asked Talia.

Talia was the newest one to join our little group. She came from a neighboring kingdom after they passed anti-queer laws there. She’s awesome, but she also brought Leslie, Kian and Orion, so her arrival was both a blessing and a curse, I guess.

Nia’s eyes are really cool. They’re bright yellowy-green. They flashed as she used her ultra-cool special hearing. “He’s not alone,” she said, confused. “He comes with…” her eyes flashed again, and then they widened a little. “…a boy. At least, I hear a much younger voice talking the king’s head off.”

“That must be the prince,” I heard Mom mutter.

“That’s it?” Austin asked, clearly not processing everything. “Just him and a boy? No guards, no nothing? Just a boy?”

“That’s what it sounds like,” Nia confirmed. “But why?”

“Well, I’m no expert of the mind or anything,” Mom began, getting a few laughs from the group, “but.”

I looked up at her. _All eyes on you, Mom._

She smiled at me, and then turned to the group. “If my inferences are correct, it is safe to assume the boy with King Ryden is his son, Prince Roman. Terrible as it is, the king might have brought him here to convince his son that we are terrible people and shouldn’t be trusted, which of course is not the truth.”

“I’m sure Virgil will get that point across to him loud and clear!” Kian yelled from across the group. I sunk down a little and buried my face into my mom’s arm. See what I meant when I said they love to hate me?

“Kian, please, we don’t have time for this,” Nia scolded. “If Marin is correct, then we must prove King Ryden wrong. We must be polite to them; perhaps they might be polite back. Perhaps we can convince the boy that all of us are in fact lovable people.”

“All but one of us,” Orion said, and he, Kian and Leslie snickered and I started to feel my face burn up and _that’s it, I’m going back to my tree._ Mom nodded and I went back there as fast as I could. As soon as I sat down, I felt a little calmer. _Breathe in for four, hold for seven, breathe out for eight. Four, seven, eight. Four, seven eight. There you go._

I felt a tap on my shoulder. I looked up, and Talyn stared back at me. They’re a little older than me, almost thirteen I think. I immediately looked down at their necklace. Did I mention I hate eye contact?

“Don’t let them get you down,” Talyn said, squatting down to my level and lightly punching my bony shoulder. “I mean, yeah, you’re not really powerful, but you’re pretty chill.”

“What does _chill_ mean?” I asked.

“It means you’re a _cool kid_ ,” Talyn said, turning their baseball cap around on their head. I let out a tight giggle as they made silly faces, black eyes shining with glee. Then their head snapped around to face the fire circle. I followed their gaze, and there stood a tall man with tired, tense arms, and a white and purple uniform, holding the hand of an energetic boy wearing a white button-down shirt, black boots almost like mine, and a red cape. The boy looked like he was about the same age as me, and he looked way too excited to be here. I turned around as Talyn stood up.

“I’m going to go over there, okay, kid?” I nodded, a little sad, and off they went.

I heard discussions about adult stuff that I didn’t understand. I also heard my mother talking to the king, and she somehow didn’t raise her voice at all. I didn’t understand how she stayed so calm when the person she hated most was in our home, but I guess I just get nervous and scared really easily, especially when something catches me off guar—

“Hello!”

“Aah!” I let out a little yelp – and a spark of lightning-light – before hiding my burning face in my knees. I hate it when people see me nervous.

No sounds of movement. _Why wasn’t this person going away?_ Slowly, I looked up.

And there was that boy. He had a puzzled look on his face, and his bright caramel eyes were looking directly at me. I looked down at my knees again. “What do you want?” I muttered.

“Well, I wanted to talk to you, of course! Why else I would be over here?”

This kid sounded too happy to be talking to me. “But…I’m not really…all t-that fun…or interesting…” I played with the loose threads of my hoodie. The boy grabbed my hand, and I looked back up. He smirked at me.

“I think I get to decide that,” he said with a smile. “My name’s Roman. What’s yours?” And there was something so genuine behind the mischief in his eyes that I said, “Virgil,” very quickly before I could stop myself from talking. Of course, I then immediately regretted it and I felt my face burn up again. “My name’s kind of weird…”

“No it’s not! I think it’s a beautiful name!” I think Roman took notice of my face, because then he said, “Are you okay?”

I nodded, still looking at my shoes. “I’m just not…good at talking to strangers.”

“We don’t have to be strangers if you don’t want to be. We can be friends.”

I looked up at him with a single raised eyebrow. I got that trait from my mom.

“What, don’t you have any friends?” he asked, like it was funny, when of course it wasn’t at all. At my silence, he said, “Me neither,” with a sheepish smile. That surprised me. How did this kid have no friends?

“Really?” I muttered.

Roman nodded. “Well, I have the royal adviser, but he’s sixteen! He’s six years older than me! He’s…” – he turned to me with a fake horrified face – “a _teenager._ ”

“Dun dun dunnnnnn,” I supplied as Roman started giggling.

“I couldn’t _bear_ the thought of being a _teenager,_ ” Roman said, pressing a hand to his forehead. “You start sweating more, and your face changes a lot, and –”

“All the stuff in _the talk_ starts happening,” I said, and Roman makes a face.

“I hated _the talk_ ,” he said, and then he raised his voice to an obnoxiously high level. “ _You will start having new and exciting feelings, feelings you’ve never had before.”_

I joined in, my voice just as high. “ _Your voice will get_ **deeper** ,” I lowered my voice as low as it could go on the word deeper, “ _You’ll start growing hair in new places –”_

“Ew!” Roman yelled as he fake hit me and sent us both into fits of laughter – well, he went into a fit of laughter. I cracked a small grin. I was surprised at how much I’d opened up to this boy. After all, I’d only met him a few minutes ago.

After his laughter died down, I gave Roman a sideways glance. “So…friends. What do friends…do?” I mean, I had Talyn, but they were more like a sibling-figure/babysitter than a friend.

“Well, friends know stuff about each other. Do you want to share first or should I?” Roman seemed surprised when I started speaking, looking at the ground as I did.

“Um, I’m nine and a half, and I barely have any magic, so I’m pretty much useless, and the others tease me a lot so I normally just sit at this tree and try to do something useful.” I looked up at Roman, who looked shocked. “What?”

“So what you’re telling me is that the only quality about yourself is that you’re useless?”

I gave him a small nod.

“That’s not going to work. I know there’s more to you than just putting yourself down all the time.”

“Well, no one really cares about the other stuff apart from my mom, and she can read my mind so I’m not really used to saying stuff about me,” I muttered.

“Well, now I care,” Roman said with a grin. “I will stop at nothing to learn more about you!” He pretended to hold a sword to the sky.

 I rolled my eyes. “Well, _some_ one’s a drama queen.”

“With pride. So?”

I bit my lip. “Well…I like music…”

Roman gasped. “Really?! Me too! What kind of music?”

“Mostly loud stuff with a lot of drums, like Panic! At the Disco and My Chemical Romance.”

“Ah. I like musical-soundtrack stuff like Dear Evan Hansen. What’s your favorite color?”

“Black. And purple.”

“Mine’s red…wait a second.” Roman laughed.  “Black clothes, scary music, putting yourself down a lot…you are an emo nightmare!”

“Thank you,” I said sincerely, because I genuinely didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.

“The royal adviser went through an ‘emo’ phase too,” Roman said. “It was so crazy and he wore so much dark clothes and makeup and he looked so stupid...” he frowned when he saw me close in on myself. “You seem a lot more tolerable than he was, though.”

The words, “Nice recovery, Princey,” fell out of my mouth before I could stop them. I slapped my hand over my mouth. “Sorry sorry sorry…”

“Princey? Is that a nickname?”

“Well, yeah,” I said and _shoot_ my face was burning again. “You’re the prince, right?”

He grinned. “I love it! Let’s see, your nickname shall be…”

“ROMAN!” I heard a voice bellow from the fire circle. Roman visibly flinched. “I have to go,” he said, letting go of my hand and standing. “I’ll come up with a nickname for you when I come back,” he whispered.

“I heard your dad say to my mom that this was the only time you’d ever be coming here,” I whispered back.

“You think that’s going to stop me?” he asked, a playful smirk on his face. “Goodbye, dear Virgil.”

I gave him a little wave. “Bye, Princey.”

And I have to admit, I was actually a little sad to see the obnoxious drama queen leave.


	4. Nicknames, Cupcake Crumbs, and Iron Gates

Eight Years Ago

_[POV: 3 rd (Roman)]_

_I thought this was going to be a lot harder,_ Roman thought that night as he snuck out of the castle. _Guards who, am I right?_

Now all he had to do was take the same path he took today and… _oh no._ He’d completely forgotten the path, and it was the middle of the night, and everyone was asleep. And it was very, _very_ dark. And he was ten, yeah, but he’d only been ten for a day.

_Don’t worry. You can do this._

He really wanted to go back to the Forest.

He’d always been told the wixen were evil, but they seemed…nice. Kind, even. And that’s when he began to wonder if all the stories he’d been told were actually the truth. And that’s when he realized he needed to go back and find out.

Okay, that wasn’t exactly true. He needed to go back because he’d come up with a nickname for Virgil. But all that other stuff was the second reason.

But now he was lost in the middle of the village and he had no idea where to go. And that was when he saw the little cottage near the edge of the road with the lights still on and heard the upbeat acoustic music playing through the open windows. _Patton!_

Patton’s mother had been good friends with Logan’s father, the retired royal adviser. His family was the only family with wixen blood allowed to live in the kingdom, which was good because he was also Logan’s best friend. Patton, however, had severed all ties with his family apart from his younger brother, Thomas, after coming out as transgender and being met with not-so-positive reactions. That was a couple of years ago, and the now eighteen-year-old Patton was doing alright thanks to some funds from the royal family and being the designated babysitter in the village; Roman had for the most part gotten used to calling him Patton instead of Jen, though he did mess up the pronouns sometimes. Since Logan had taken over his father’s job, he often took Roman with him on surveys of the kingdom, knowing they’d end at Patton’s cottage and they’d get to hang out there.

He walked up the little path to the bright blue door and gave it a quiet knock. Almost instantly, he was met with blue-green eyes and a smiling face that quickly turned into a frown upon seeing exactly who was at the door.

“Roman?!” he whispered. “It’s almost eleven o'clock at night! What are you doing here, kiddo? And where’s your father or Logan?”

“Patton, please please please please _please_ don’t tell Father or Logan or anyone else that I came here,” Roman whispered, making pray hands as he did. “I need to go to the Forest where the wixen are but I’m lost and I need your help.”

“Oh!” Patton smiled. “Was that part of your tour today? _Oh --_ wait in this little room a sec!” He left the little entrance area as Roman stepped in and let the door softly click behind him. He looked around at the pictures all over the walls. One family portrait hung right above the little chest where people could keep their shoes, and the rest were mostly of Thomas, himself (and his father in a few), and Logan. At the time, Roman didn’t understand why there were more pictures of Logan than everyone but Patton himself, or why Logan looked happier in his pictures with Patton than literally any other time.

One picture stood out from the rest -- Patton’s grandmother, Harper, stood alone in one of the frames. She had bright turquoise eyes that were glowing in the picture, and her left arm was nothing but a blur. Harper was a witch who married a human blacksmith. She had Patton’s father, who also married a human. His wife had Patton and Thomas, so both of them were one-quarter wixen.

Patton’s father, Patton, and Thomas didn’t have any powers, though, and Harper had gotten killed in the war. So that kind of stunk. But Roman thought the story was really cool when he’d heard it. It was the only story about wixen – other than the war itself – that he’d ever heard.

Patton ran back to the entryway and pushed Roman into the tiny kitchen. There on the old wooden table sat a red velvet cupcake with a single glittery candle. Patton flicked on a lighter and carefully lit the candle.

“Logan normally does his surveys on Fridays so I thought you’d be coming with him today,” Patton explained. “So I made this for you! Red velvet’s your favorite, right?”

“Yes!” Roman exclaimed. “You’re the best, Pat!” He quickly sat down, blew out the candle and stuffed the cupcake into his mouth. He looked up at Patton with his mouth full of cake, but to his surprise, Patton was wearing a little-kid frown.

“I didn’t get to sing Happy Birthday,” Patton whimpered.

“Oh,” Roman said with his mouth full. He swallowed the rest of the freaking awesome cake and wiped most of the crumbs from his mouth. “Now you can!”

Patton’s whole face lit up, and after a pretty silly rendition of “Happy Birthday” and many, many hugs, Patton showed the way to the gate Roman had been at just that morning.

Roman smiled at Patton as they approached the iron fence. “Thanks, Patton.”

Patton smiled back. “No problem! I really should be bringing you back to the palace right now but I do think it’s really great you’re trying to understand the wixen. They’re great, you’ll see.”

“I know,” Roman thought, thinking of Virgil. “And you won’t tell Father or Logan or anyone else, right? Promise?” He held out his pinky.

Patton took the outstretched finger with his own and shook it. “Promise. Just – be safe, okay?”

“Okay. And if anything happens to me in any way at all, you will not get the blame.”

“Thanks, Ro. I probably should be heading back.”

“Yeah, sorry for waking you.”

“No worries! You didn’t wake me. Hey, I’m really proud of you for doing this. Even if no one else is.” Patton turned around to go back to his house. “See you next Friday, kiddo!”

Roman waved. “See you then!”

Once Patton was a good distance away, Roman tried the gate, but it was locked. Of course. _How could I have been so stupid?_

He drew a curve in the dirt with his boot, trying to think of what to do, and then he looked up at the iron chain-link beast that towered above him. He’d heard it was at least six feet tall … _but is that too tall for me to climb?_

_No,_ he decided. _No it’s not._

He leapt up onto the fence, fists clenched on the wires, and after some laborious climbing and almost slipping several times, he made it to the top and heaved himself over to the other side, making sure to land on his side as opposed to his head or feet so he didn’t break anything. After landing with a hard crash, Roman stood up, brushed the dust and dirt off of himself, and checked for broken bones. Everything seemed fine, somehow. Roman grinned with glee.

He had gotten in.

.o0o.

_[POV: Marin]_

_YEAH! I DID IT!_

The thought was loud, and joyous, and almost as shocking as the ear-shattering crash that had woken me up along with half the village not ten seconds before. I sat up in my bed, lit a lantern, and looked down to Virgil on the pile of mattresses next to me. He was wide awake and burrowed inside his hoodie and shaking and looking right at me, brown eyes anxious and wide. _What was that what was that is everything okay?_

I nodded. “I think everything’s okay. And if not, it’s going to be.” I walked over to Virgil and rested my hand on his hair as he clung to my leg. “Four, seven, eight. Breathe with me, okay?”

_Four, seven, eight. Four, seven, eight._ His mind seemed to be calming down as he focused on the numbers. Good. We stood there in comfortable silence until I heard a strong voice ring through the village from the fire circle. “Everyone come outside, please. _Now_.”

Virgil loosened his grip and looked up at me. _We need to go._

I nodded, and together we walked to the circle.

When we arrived, everyone else was already gathered in a small circle, with Austin heading the group. I decided not to read their thoughts at the moment and instead focus on what everyone else was focusing on, which was the human boy that had been completely surrounded by angry wixen. Talia produced bright orange light to make up for the lack of light coming from the dying embers, and from that I could see the boy’s white T-shirt, black sweatpants, and black combat boots, and his messy hair, and his mouth with cake crumbs at the corners –

And his eyes.

Oh, dear God, his eyes. They were so determined but so, so scared. They were just the eyes of a boy. A boy who needed help.

I’d seen that look in my son’s eyes far too often, and seeing a look that desperate was enough to make me want to help him.

I looked down at Virgil, who only had one thought in his mind. A question. A question that reminded me of everything. _Roman?_

_Right, the crown prince,_ I thought. _He’s the one who came here earlier today and spent the whole time talking to my son who spent the rest of the day talking to me about him. How could I forget?_

I decided to focus on the prince, and his thoughts. _Um…maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe I should forget about the nickname for Virgil, or learning stuff about the wixen, Maybe Father was right all along, maybe they’re going to kill me, maybe I should go –_

“Oh, I don’t think so,” I muttered, taking in air. “ALL OF YOU, STAND BACK!”

Thankfully, the now-intimidated group, along with Virgil, carefully stepped away, leaving me and the child alone in the circle. I carefully kneeled down to the boy’s level and gestured with my hand for him to walk to me. Thankfully, he listened, and I took his hands in mine. He shuddered as I did and I felt a little piece of my hope break off of my soul and fly away. But I’d seen this boy’s mind. I knew what he was here for.

I looked him in the eyes. “I would like to apologize on the behalf on everyone here, Prince Roman,” I said. “I understand that you put in a lot of effort to return here tonight and our greeting was very, _very_ rude.” I swept a glare around the circle of people, who gave a tight and mumbled “Sorry.”

I looked back at the boy, and he mumbled, “They said I scared them and I’m sorry for waking all of you up. I didn’t mean to, I swear.” He sat on the dirt near the fire pit and I followed suit.

“I know,” I said, smiling, “and I also know exactly why you came here.”

Roman’s eyes widened. _Well, that’s a little bit  creepy._

“I am a little creepy sometimes, I know,” I said with a grin, making the poor boy’s eyes widen further. “I’m sorry, I never properly introduced myself.” I held out a hand. “My name is Marin. I am an off-blue witch, and I can read minds.”

“You can read…oh, that makes sense now! Wait, what number am I thinking of?” _Eight eight eight eight eight_

I smiled. “Eight.”

“That’s really cool!” he exclaimed. I brought us both to our feet and faced the rest of the group. I pointed to each member of the group as I spoke.

“This is Monica. She is a red-orange witch, and she can create, destroy, and give sentience to oak wood.” Monica gave Roman a curt nod.

“This is Nia. She is a yellow-green witch, and she has enhanced hearing.” Nia smiled and waved.

Roman’s smile turned sheepish. “I’m sorry if I _really_ scared you with my crash.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I can control my hearing.” She pulled out an earplug, getting a few laughs from the group.

“You don’t seem to have put this together yet,” I said to Roman, “but the different colors of magic determine the kind of power or powers you have. It also determines your eye color, but that you figured out.”

Roman nodded. _I understand. Did you read that?_

“Yes, I did,” I said, smiling. “Now, where was I?” I turned my gaze to Joan and Talyn.

“This is Joan, and this is Talyn. Joan is a pure white wixen and Talyn is a pure black wixen. They are not very powerful on their own, but they are very powerful when they are paired together. Joan can control light and accomplish any mental task they come across, and Talyn can control air and accomplish any physical task they come across.”

I turned my gaze to the stern one meeting mine. _You do realize how goddamn dangerous this is, right? Letting the crown prince of the kingdom that destroyed us into our home?_

I sighed. “Austin, could you look on the bright side for once in your life? Thank you!” I turned to Roman. “And that’s Austin. They’re a pure blue wixen, which means their powers are different from mine. Austin can create and control water.” Austin made a bubble to demonstrate, smirking as they did. Roman gasped and stuck his hand in the bubble. Touching it to make sure it was real. I silently hoped he didn’t have to do this for everything, or else he was in for a very big disappointment; however, things seemed pretty positive so far. I turned to the four newest members of our group.

“This is Talia. She’s an orange witch, and she can shapeshift into plants and animals.” I looked down to the three children wrestling with each other at Talia’s feet, who quickly sat up straight when they saw me. “This is Leslie, this is Kian, and this is Orion,” I said, gesturing to each of them. “Leslie is a red-violet witch, and her powers are tied to romance, though we don’t know exactly how yet; we do know she can detect who is compatible with whom. Kian is an off-green warlock, and he can turn invisible and has X-ray vision. Orion is an indigo warlock, and he can create illusions.” Each of them waved, and Leslie greeted the boy with an enthusiastic “Hello!”

Roman waved back. “Hello, Leslie.”

Leslie gave Roman a curious look. “Let’s see, you’re compatible with…” she started laughing. “Oh no, that can’t _possibly_ be right!”

“Who is it?” Kian asked, already knowing the “answer”. I glared at the three of them, which we all know is the adult’s non-verbal way of saying _stop_ , but it was no use.

“Your compatibility instincts are _obviously_ messed up,” Orion said with a smirk. “After all…”

“ _No one could ever like Virgil!”_ they shouted in unison.

“That is enough out of the three of you!” I yelled. “I can’t help what awful things you say to each other every day but I will not have you insulting my son to his or my face!” I hated this. I tried with all my might not to hate those little termites but damn it, they made it so freaking hard sometimes. I was about to scold them some more, but then I heard something I will never forget.

“You’re wrong,” Roman declared. “You’re wrong because _I_ like Virgil. I think he’s a really great person and he was really nice to me and _he’s_ the reason I came back here. So you’re wrong, and you’ll always be wrong, and maybe you should stop being so rude to other people.” He spoke this just as clearly in his mind as he did out loud, and I was astounded. And obviously, so was Virgil, or else he wouldn’t have walked over to Roman and given him a tiny, shy, hug. Roman immediately reciprocated, and I heard both of their thoughts together, chanting, _Thank you._

 I smiled as they pulled apart. “And clearly, you’ve already met my son, Virgil. He’s an earth-tone warlock, and his powers are industrial, such as levitation and electricity.”

“As if he could actually make electricity,” Orion shouted.

“That is _enough_ ,” I said through my teeth. I turned to the pair. “I must say, Roman, the nickname you came up for Virgil is very impressive.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow at the prince. “Nickname?”

Roman smiled sheepishly. “Yeah…I told you I’d come up with a nickname for you and I did and I had to tell you before I forgot and…well, here I am.”

“You came all the way from the palace to give me a nickname?”

“Yes! I never break a promise!”

“At _midnight_?”

“Absolutely! Not even the darkest depths of…well, darkness can stop me!”

“You’re _really_ dramatic. Well…what is it?” Virgil asked shyly.

Roman froze. _Oh no oh no oh no oh no…oh shoot._

I sighed, amused. “You forgot.”

“But I came all the way here and –” He fell onto the ground and gave a dramatic sigh. “I have failed you, haven’t I? _Ugh,_ I feel so _bad!_ ”

“Well, lucky for you,” I said to Roman as Virgil helped him up, “you have someone who can read thoughts _and_ whose own mind isn’t quite as loose as your own. It was, if I recall correctly, ‘Panic! At the Everywhere’.”

Virgil cracked a small grin, which if you didn’t already know, was pretty rare. “What?”

Roman grinned. “Well, you said you liked Panic! At The Disco and you’re nervous all the time so…you’re Panic! At The Everywhere!”

Virgil’s shy smirk grew into the full-blown smile that I love so much. “You do realize that’s longer than my actual name, right?”

“Well, your nickname for me is two letters longer than _my_ actual name!”

“At least it’s not _five syllables_ longer!”

“Well, I’m _sorry_ ; I guess I’ll just have to come up with something different, then,” Roman said in a fake snooty voice.

“I guess you will,” Virgil returned before saying, “I was just joking, Princey. I like it.”

And the prince’s smile could have put the sun to shame. “You do? Yes! _VICTORY!_ ”

Everyone in the circle laughed, including the other three children and my son, who even I had rarely seen laugh before. When the laughter died down, I spoke again.

“Prince Roman, I believe you had another reason for coming?”

_Oh, yeah!_ “ _Oh –_ right! Could everyone take a seat, please?”

Roman waited until we were all seated on the bench or on the dirt before starting.

“So, you all know I’m the prince, right?” Collective nods. “Well, my father has told me countless stories about the war that happened before I was born, and how a yellow-eyed warlock manipulated my grandmother’s mind and made her kill my uncle and then herself. And then after that, my aunt set after him and most of the kingdom thinks that she got killed by him too.”

“That must have been Hydall,” Austin said, a fierce look on their narrow face. “He’s the only pure yellow warlock born in fifty years, and only pure yellow wixen can completely control someone’s mind.”

“You’ve heard this story how many times? You’re what, eleven?” Monica asked.

“It was probably that Hydall guy then,” Roman said. “And I just turned ten. Yeah, my family’s really sunshiny, huh?”

“Clearly,” Talia muttered.

“But I don’t understand something. Did any other warlocks help the yellow-eyed – I mean Hydall?” Roman asked.

I shook my head. “Not to our knowledge, no.”

“So why is it that all of you had to get punished for the work of one warlock? I mean, look at this! You got pushed into these woods; you’re living in shacks; you’re treated like dirt; and for what? What did any of you do wrong?”

“Well, what do you know,” Austin said, rolling their eyes. “He has a soul.”

“Can it, Austin,” Nia snapped. “Hey, kid, just out of curiosity, do you have any connections or knowledge of us magic-wielders at all?”

“Well, kind of. I don’t know very much about you guys because my dad doesn’t let anyone talk to me about it, but the royal adviser’s best friend is one-quarter wixen. His grandmother’s name was Harper, and she had super speed.”

My eyes widened. “You’re friends with Harper’s kin?” Harper had been one of our fiercest warriors and most protective and determined leaders.

Roman nodded. “His name is Patton, and he’s very nice. His family is the only family with wixen blood allowed inside the kingdom.”

“Oh, you must be talking about the Fosters,” Monica realized. “Yeah, back before the war started I remember meeting Harper’s grandkids. There was a baby boy Thomas and a little girl Jenny, but not a Patton.”

“Jen is…yeah, Jen is Patton,” Roman explained, and the group nodded in understanding. “But my point is, he’s really nice, and so is Thomas, and all of you are really nice too! You’re not evil like my father told me you were. You’re just people. You’re just like me – just a little bit cooler.”

He faced the group fully, his pale brown eyes glowing in the orange light. I was surprised at his determination. He had so much for a boy his age. That little part of him reminded me of Blake.

“Don’t be surprised if I keep coming back here,” Roman declared. “Don’t be surprised if I ask you tons and tons of questions. I don’t want my version of what happened to be skewed and biased. I want to know _everything_ , good and bad. I need to leave here now before I get caught, but I will be back, _because_ _I want to know your side of the story_.”

_I want to know your side of the story._ To this day, those words have never left me. Maybe because they were so simple, but so powerful and so hopeful I couldn’t possibly ever let them go.

“Then I shall take you to the gate,” I said. “Everyone, return inside.”

As we approached the gate, I heard Roman’s thoughts. _That was really cool! I can’t believe how brave I was! And Virgil liked my nickname for him! Hey Marin, are you reading my mind right now?_

“Yes, I am,” I said, gathering some sand, dirt and leaves into a pile. “You were very, very brave. And I must say you are very good at coming up with nicknames.” I gestured to the pile. “None of us can open the gate, so I thought this might be useful to prevent injury since we don’t have any healers.”

Roman smiled. “Thanks, Marin. You guys are all really cool.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I look forward to seeing you again. We certainly have many stories to tell you.”

“I can’t wait!” he said as he stepped on the dirt pile and started to climb the fence.

“Roman.”

He turned away from the fence to face me, and I placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Be proud of your kind heart and open mind,” I said. “Those are powerful things to have but hard things to keep. Don’t lose them.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“Good. I know you do a wonderful job of keeping promises.”

I read an _I can’t wait for tomorrow I can’t wait for tomorrow yippee!!_ and I laughed as I waved. “We’ll see you tomorrow, then. Be careful.”

“I will.”

He made his way to the top of the gate and carefully climbed down the other side. Once I was sure he was standing on solid ground, I made my way back to the village and stood in the fire circle with my now-exhausted kid.

“He’s a weird one, isn’t he?” I muttered to Virgil as I scooped him up and walked back to our house.

_Yeah. He’s really dramatic._

“Yeah, it’s not every day a ten-year-old prince sneaks out of a palace and all the way across the kingdom just to give his new friend a nickname.” I put Virgil on the mattress pile and put his weighted blanket on top of him. “He reminds me of your father, you know. Just a little.”

Virgil looked at me. _Really?_

I nodded. “He had that same unwavering determination, and that same kindness and love towards you.”

_Dad never met me…_

“Well if that’s stopping you from seeing the comparison, then Roman has enough kindness and love towards you for the two of them combined.”

Virgil smiled. _I like this. I like him._

“Me too, Virgie. Even if he did give us all quite the scare tonight.”

“He’s great though,” Virgil muttered sleepily.

“Yes,” I said with a smile as I planted a kiss on his forehead and blew out the lantern. “Yes, he is.”

.o0o.

_[POV: ???]_

I haven’t been watching.

This boy is a hindrance on my plan.

He can’t help me.

I just have to be impatient.

Perhaps the earth-tone boy is my target. Perhaps I shouldn’t try to get to somebody else…


	5. Conversations, Wooden Doors, and Chocolate Ice Cream

Eight Years Ago

_[POV: 3 rd (Logan)]_

“Your Majesty,” Logan called, rapping on the ornate wooden door to the prince’s bedroom. “Come out here, please. It’s time for me to do the weekly survey and your father has requested that you join me.” No response. That was rather odd. Logan knew the energetic young prince was more of a morning person than even he was, and it was well past 8 o’ clock – ergo, he should be up by now.

“Your Majesty,” Logan called again. “Patton informed me he has made chocolate ice cream for us, and you won’t get any if you don’t come with me.” Again, no response. There were an infinitesimal amount of reasons His Majesty wouldn’t open that door and the mention of chocolate ice cream certainly was not one of them. Logan knocked again. “Your Majesty, please, I need to leave in five minutes. Are you coming with me or not?”

“Who’s this ‘Your Majesty’ person you speak of?” came a muffled voice from the other side of the door. “I’ve never heard of her.”

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose and adjusted his glasses. _Of all the days to be running late, it had to be day the prince decided he was too ‘cool’ and ‘with it’ for his title. Jeez._ “It is your formal title, the same one _every other_ royal staff member calls you,” Logan said, making it very clear in his voice that he was losing his patience. “Now would you please –”

“Yeah, well, _every other_ royal staff member hasn’t also been my tutor for six years and my babysitter for four. And I’ve known you even longer than that! I’ve known you since I was _born_. I know you know what my name is.”

“You know, just because you’re ten years old now doesn’t mean you’re allowed to be rebellious.”

“Since I was _born_ , Logan.”

Logan sighed; he was clearly out of options. “Fine. _Roman Avery Sanders,_ I am leaving to complete the weekly survey in five minutes. Would you like to join me?” The door finally opened, and Logan was met with a smiling Roman, complete with a fake samurai sword and red sash.

“Why yes, Logan. Yes, I would.”

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose and adjusted his glasses again.

He _really_ wasn’t paid enough for this.

_ 5 Hours Later _

“Why do you have to ask everyone all of those questions?” Roman asked Logan as they made their way down the last street.

“Your incessant babbling isn’t going to get us to Patton’s house any faster,” Logan said hurriedly as he scribbled in a notepad, quickly pacing down the dirt path to the end of the street.

“But doesn’t it get annoying for these people to answer the same questions week after week?”

“The questions vary, and I don’t understand the sudden need to interrogate my methods.”

“I’m ten now – aren’t I allowed to question things?”

Logan sighed. This back-and-forth bickering had been going on for a good eleven minutes now, and he was famished, sweltering, and losing his godforsaken patience. So he decided to be blunt.

“Your brain isn’t large enough to process this, but the fact that _you_ are asking _me_ so many questions about how annoying _my_ questions are can be considered a form of hypocrisy if you look at the situation from the right angle.”

“Woah, my head’s spinning a little bit there, Logan. Give my tiny brain some time to process that, wouldn’t you?”

“You are excruciating.”

“I’ll ask Father to give you a raise then; how about that, Logan?”

The heat and hunger got to his head and Logan finally snapped. “Why are you only responding to my statements with questions?”

“Don’t you see how annoying it can get?” Roman asked, flashing his eyes and smiling innocently.

“ _Fine_ ,” Logan said through his teeth. “You should ask your father if I should just bring a carton of puppies for the citizens to play with for fifteen minutes each week instead.”

“Hmm…” Roman hummed to himself. “That’s actually not a bad idea.”

“That was sarcasm, not a suggestion.”

“Patton would like it,” Roman added, and at the sudden mention of Logan’s best friend, Logan felt his cheeks flush.

“Yes, he would, wouldn’t he?” he muttered, scribbling _puppies?_ at the bottom of someone’s answer sheet and smiling to himself.

_You need to get over yourself, Logan. Rather, you need to get over him. It will only cause a world of hurt for both of you and you know it._

“I wish I could tell what you’re thinking right now,” Roman said, turning Logan’s attention back to the young boy. “I bet it’s really interesting since you looked so deep in thought. Marin’s so lucky,” he mumbled to himself. Logan raised an eyebrow. He had never heard that name before.

“Is that a character from a musical?”

“What?”

“Marin. Who are they? Are they a book character or musical character or something from somewhere I don’t understand? I’ve never heard the name before.”

Roman froze. His eyes went wide. “Oh, shoot.”

“It’s not from something inappropriate, is it?”

Roman grabbed Logan by the arm and started running. “Come on come on come on – Logan, hurry up!”

Logan tried his best to hold onto his notebook and his glasses with his free arm. “Where are we going?”

“To Pat’s house. Go go go go go go.”

.o0o.

_[POV: 3 rd (Patton)]_

 Patton heard three solid, methodical knocks against the door. _Knock knock knock._ Then a bunch of little crazy knocks. _Knockknocknockknocknockknock._

Patton smiled as he yelled, “One second!” and took out some clean bowls from the dishwasher and the homemade chocolate ice cream from the freezer. He hummed to himself as he scooped the ice cream and carefully placed the bowls on his kitchen table. He walked over to his speaker, hit play, and immediately Imagine Dragons started playing throughout the house.

Patton blushed and smiled. Logan loved Imagine Dragons. And chocolate ice cream. And he was fairly certain Roman liked chocolate ice cream, too, but he wasn’t sure about the Imagine Dragons. But he knew Logan loved both, and Patton would be lying if he said he hadn’t made the ice cream just because he knew Logan would be stopping by today. He and Roman seemed a bit early, though. Patton glanced at the clock, which was reading 2:15. Yeah, they normally didn’t get here for another half an hour or so. So why were they here now? _I guess I’ll get to find out,_ he thought, walking over to the door and opening it to see a very confused-looking Logan and a very distressed-looking Roman. Patton frowned in concern. “Are you guys okay?”

“ _I’m the most awful person in the world,”_ Roman whined, dragging himself into the house and collapsing on the worn-out sofa.

Patton patted the prince’s head. “No you’re not, kiddo!” Patton then shut the door and turned to Logan. “What’s going on with him, Lolo?”

Logan flushed – he always did when Patton called him Lolo – and responded, “He mentioned a name I had not heard before; I believe it is associated with mind reading. When I questioned him about it, he just kind of froze for a second, and then grabbed me by the arm and ran straight here.”

“Is that right, Ro?” Patton asked. After getting a nod from the lump on the couch Roman had become, Patton turned back to Logan. “What was the name?”

“I believe it was Marin, spelled M-A-R-I-N if I heard him correctly.” Another nod from Roman triggered Patton’s memories of the events of the week before, when Roman had appeared at his doorstep at half past eleven at night with a request and a secret. And just like that, Patton was pretty sure he knew who Marin was.

“Alright, let’s eat some ice cream before it melts and we can talk while we eat, yeah?” The two others agreed, and they walked/dragged themselves to the kitchen table.

As they ate, Patton asked, “Hey kiddo…is Marin…?”

Roman swallowed his bite before responding. “Maybe?”

“Is Marin what?” Logan asked.

“Should you tell him or should I?” Patton asked Roman.

“I’ll do it. I told you that you wouldn’t be taking the blame for this.” Roman turned to Logan. “Marin…is a witch.”

Logan’s spoon clattered onto the floor and his eyebrows went up. “Excuse me?”

“She’s a witch,” Roman explained, “and she can read minds and she’s super cool and nice and she read my mind a few times and kind of freaked me out but then she explained everything, and her son Virgil is a warlock and he’s my age and he’s really sweet and funny and they all live in those woods.”

“I know where the wixen live,” Logan said as he bent over to pick up his spoon. “What I don’t understand is how you got there. Your father told me you spent most, if not all, of your time in the forest last week talking to another boy, who I presume is Virgil. So tell me, how did you learn this much about Marin?”

“And the others,” Roman muttered, sticking the cold spoon in his mouth.

“Others? Roman, what did you do?”

“At about eleven thirty last week, Roman came here,” Patton interjected. “He wanted to go back to the forest and asked me not to tell anyone he’d come here because he wanted to keep his visits a secret. I’m great at keeping secrets, but Roman, kiddo, you didn’t even last a week!”

“ _I knooooooooow,”_ he whined. “And now I’ll never be able to go back there again!”

“If I may interrupt your whining, how did you get past the barrier?” Logan questioned. “There’s only one key to that gate, which your father always keeps on his person, and there are repelling mechanisms on the rest of the fence.”

“There are?” Roman asked. “I just climbed up to the top and fell down to the other side.”

“They must not be effective on humans, then,” Patton heard Logan mutter.

“How many times have you gone back after that first night, kiddo?” Patton asked.

“Twice,” Roman squeaked. “Logan, please please _please_ don’t tell Father about this.”

“Roman, I’m afraid I must. It’s for your own safety,” Logan said.

“But I have friends there now and they have really great stories and I really want to see them again. Please don’t say anything; I’ll always listen to you and I’ll eat my vegetables without complaining and I’ll try my hardest not to give you a hard time and I’ll never make you not use my formal title again and Logan, I’m begging you, _please_ help me out here _._ ”

Patton decided at this point that it was best to intervene. “Logan, can I talk to you in my room a sec?” They walked the short distance to Patton’s tiny bedroom – the house wasn’t exactly huge – and let the door close behind them with a soft _click._

“What is it, Patton?” Logan asked, crossing his arms and avoiding eye contact. It didn’t take long for Patton to notice that Logan was a bit tenser than usual.

“Look at me, Lolo,” Patton said. When Logan looked up, Patton gave him a sad smile.

“Listen,” Patton started, “I understand you want to keep Roman safe. So do I. Not only do I care about both of you bunches, but in case you forgot, Roman’s the only family King Ryden has left. He is the only person keeping the man who’s in charge of the kingdom from actually, literally losing his mind. So I get it. Really, I do. But that war? The one that happened ten years ago that the kingdom won and forced the wixen out into the hell-on-earth beyond the barrier? That tore my family apart. That tore your father apart. It tore everything apart. My grandmother got killed. Ryden’s sister got killed. So, so many magic-wielders got killed. And now Ryden is trying to brainwash his kid with skewed stories of how awful the magic-wielders are and how they’re evil and bad. You met my grandmother. She was the most incredible person. We know better than anyone in this kingdom that Ryden, though his views on wixen are understandable because of what happened to his family, is dead wrong.”

“That yellow-eyed warlock was as evil as they come,” Logan replied.

“Well, yes. He was. But was anyone else who got captured or killed or banished? Probably not.”

“I don’t know what to do about this,” Logan admitted.

“Well, I do.” Patton’s face turned thoughtful. “Roman could’ve easily lied to you about who Marin was. But he didn’t. He told you the truth. That was his way of asking for help – along with his speech about eating his vegetables,” he added with a giggle.

“What’s your point, Patton?”

Patton refocused. “My point is, if Roman really thinks the magic-wielders are cool and wants to be friends with them…it might help us. It would help us. A lot. Because he’s the crown prince, and he’s going to be ruler of this kingdom one day, and a good view of magic-wielders in general will help all of us. So schedule a meeting with the king at _just_ the right time, or reposition the guards _just_ so, or just stay silent for him. Just don’t tell his father. At the very least, you can do that much.”

“I’m really not sure this is the best course of action to take here. I feel I need to tell his father for safety reasons, as I stated before.”

“But is that really what you _should_ do?”

Logan sighed. “Patton, I already do so much for that boy, I –” 

“Please, Lolo?” Patton used his signature puppy eyes. “If not for Roman, could you do it for me?”

Logan rolled his eyes, an amused smirk growing with the blush on his face. The puppy eyes always got Logan, and something about that fact made Patton’s chest feel warm and fuzzy and tingly and happy.

 “Using my one weakness against me; how could you?” Logan’s voice sounded softer and less uptight; Patton knew he was one of the only people Logan talked like that around. “Alright, I’ll help Roman. But I’m only helping him because you asked me to.”

Patton grinned and pulled a surprised Logan into a bear hug. “Thank you so much, Lolo!”

And then Logan returned the hug and muttered, “You’re welcome, Pat,” into Patton’s head of frizzy hair, and Patton could have sworn a million butterflies erupted in his stomach.

When they pulled apart, Patton grinned at Logan. “You should go tell your babysit-ee the good news!”

Logan rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I suppose I should. Thank you, Patton.”

“No problem, Logan.”

“If this gets me into trouble –”

“Blame the king. Just – anything that goes wrong, blame him.”

Logan smiled. “I’ll do that.”

After a few more minutes of ice-cream-eating, a few more excited whoops from Roman, and a few more Imagine Dragons songs, Logan and Roman bid their goodbyes and made their way back to the palace. After waving through his window, Patton ran back into his bedroom and collapsed on top of the bed, a freckly blush and a stupid grin adorning his face. He held his hands to his chest and let out a happy little sigh.

Maybe, thanks to Roman, the kingdom had a fighting chance for peace.

_And maybe, just maybe,_ Patton thought, _I have a fighting chance for Logan._


	6. Forests, Deception, and Falling Branches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken so long! Hope you enjoy this chapter!

_[POV: Orion]_

Seven Years Ago

Being a teenager sucks.

I don’t care who said it was great. Whoever did is just wrong.

I know all this crap, and I just turned thirteen. Pretty great, huh?

But as I walked through the woods, I felt pretty great. Everyone else thought I was back at the forest. Once an indigo wixen can create an illusion of themselves, they can pretty much do anything. I’ve been able to do the master-level magic since I was twelve.

Not that anyone needed to know that. So I usually go to the darker parts. You’re less likely to get caught when no one can see you through the fog.

Except for today, apparently.

My eyes flashed as I created the illusion of a bunch of tree branches falling and blocking the path. Usually illusions work by creating the picture in a person’s mind, but the animal minds can be useful to practice on in large groups. I expected some bunnies and squirrels to get confused before their heads cleared and it was business as usual. What I wasn’t expecting was for a voice to say from the shadows, “Most unimpressive.”

I scowled in the direction of the voice. “Thanks a lot, asshole,” I snapped. I was a teenager; I could swear now, right? “You know, illusions take more effort than you think.”

“I didn’t know that,” the voice replied. “And the sky is green and rocks can talk and the king isn’t batshit insane.”

I figured it out pretty quickly from there. “You speak in lies.”

“No, I don’t.” _Yes, I do,_ I translated.

“So you _were_ impressed, then?” I asked.

“No.” _Yes._  

I saw a flash of yellow from the direction of the voice. I forgot to mention it was really foggy and it was getting dark. “Are your eyes yellow?” I asked. “Who are you?”

It was then that I started to feel a dull, slightly painful pull in my head. It felt like a headache, but more sporadic in intensity. I winced to try to make it go away.

“I will be answering both of those questions, because I trust you.” _I won’t be answering either of those questions, because I don’t trust you._

“Got it,” I responded. “If you won’t tell me who you are, then can you at least tell me why you’re here? And why you’re talking to me?”

“I haven’t been watching you. I don’t need your help.” _I’ve been watching you. I need your help._ “Illusions are not as powerful as people think. I couldn’t use them at all.” _Illusions are more powerful than people think. I could use them._

“And why should I trust you when you won’t even tell me your name?” I asked. The pull in my head grew a bit more painful and I tried to resist it, but to no avail.

“Because I don’t want to teach you and make you more powerful. I don’t want you to be my ally in my plans, and I definitely don’t think your community is holding you back, and I am definitely _not_ embarrassing myself by asking a boy for help. Besides,” the pull grew even stronger and I bit my tongue to try to take away from the pain, “I couldn’t possibly do anything bad to you if you disagreed. I couldn’t possibly make you an outcast, unwanted, unneeded, unloved…”

And now I felt like I had a splitting headache, but everywhere in my body. I was losing control of my own thoughts.

“ _I couldn’t possibly make you like Virgil_ ,” he whispered, and fear shot through my veins. Virgil might as well not have magic. He’s a loser and that’s the last thing I want to be.

“So? You won’t come back here tomorrow?” the voice asked. “Maybe I won’t show you my face.”

I remember agreeing, but my voice felt like it had disconnected from my mind. The pain instantly went away and I collapsed to the forest floor, panting and trying to piece together what had just happened.

“Awful. I won’t see you tomorrow.”

I returned to the village very, very confused, but by the night’s end, my mind was made up.

I was going to go back.

After all, what harm could a teacher do?


	7. Interludes, Author’s Notes, and Fourth Wall Breaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is just an author's note -- next real chapter is chapter 8 if you don't feel like reading this

_[POV: Me]_

heyo, it's me (the author) and I’m butting in for a sec hi how are you today good I hope so

so, it's been a while since I've updated. I've kind of been in a slump and it's been a while since I've had the motivation to write this, but here's some messy notes/context that I wrote down for what happens in between chapter 6 and chapter 8:

Logan does end up helping Roman. And he _actually_ helps him, like by planning sleepovers at Patton’s house and rearranging the guards’ positions so Roman has a clear path to sneak out. (Though I think the sleepovers were more for Logan’s personal benefit than helping Roman…)

Roman and Virgil’s friendship grew and grew and – wait, nope. You don’t get Prinxiety yet, dear readers! Patience is a virtue (that this author doesn’t have but that’s beside the point, stop looking at me like that). The Prinxiety (and the Logicality, for that matter) are both coming, I _promise_.

So, Logan’s helping out Roman like the great babysitter/tutor that he is, Logan and Patton are practically a couple, and Roman and Virgil are besties. Everything’s great, right?  

Welllllll…

All good things must come to an end. Just before Roman turned twelve, he got caught in the forest by one of the guards and as punishment, King Ryden pretty much locked Roman in the palace, and when he did go outside, he’d always be accompanied by a guard. Since Roman was nice enough not to rat Logan out, the royal adviser kept his job.

But why did I have to tell you all that in an author’s note, you’re probably not asking? Well, that’s because I’m only going to deal with those details in flashbacks. Thanks to the wonderful invention of time skips, we’re finally getting (close) to the story’s present day!!! (I have no idea if any of you are as excited about this as me but I’m a super slow typer so it took me forever to get here but we’re finally here so yayyyyy)

You might hear more from me later (hopefully closer to/at the end of this behemoth of a fanfiction) but for now, enjoy the story, peeps!

– AAA


	8. Willow Trees, Necklaces, and Notebooks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just realized I've already written chapter 8. 
> 
> *facepalms*
> 
> well here you go surprise actual update

Six Months Ago

_[POV: Marin]_

I found Virgil where he normally is – standing by the willow tree, notebook in hand, fiddling with the worn-out purple crystal on his necklace and making small sparks of mud-colored lightning with his magic.

I looked at my son up and down; from the toes of his muddy combat boots and his ripped-up black jeans; up his skinny legs and torso to his old black hoodie that he’s had forever, now adorned with scrap pieces of purple fabric; across his narrow shoulders to his black and silver oversized headphones and his purple crystal necklace; to his sharp face, his smattering of freckles that I know he hates but I love, and his piercings, and his purple hair, and his sad eyes. He’s grown so much in such a short span of time.

And then finally, I looked inside his mind.

_I miss you._

Those three words had been haunting his head more and more often recently, always the same, always dark, and always bittersweet. _I miss you._

I didn’t have to ask Virgil who it was that he missed. I missed him too. And Austin and Monica and Talia and Nia and everyone else missed him. The only two who didn’t were Pharaoh and Olive, the runaways from the kingdom of Nix. Pharaoh had arrived at the village with his one-year-old in his arms just a few weeks after Roman had gotten caught – the only reason they didn’t miss the prince was because they’d never met him. But we’ve told them so, so many stories.

I stood by the willow tree, watching my son thumb through his most precious journal again and again and again, and reality finally came crashing down on me after six years of the truth being stuck in the back of my head.

_It’s almost certain he’s never coming back._

I supposed I have that _almost_ to hold on to. It’s not much.

But perhaps it might be enough.

.o0o.

_[POV: Virgil]_

Two hundred and seventy-nine nicknames.

I skimmed through my journal again, reading over the pages and pages of names that had been given to me. I didn’t realize a person could be called so many different things – then again, I hadn’t realized a lot of things before Princey had come along and turned my world upside-down.

Every time he’d come here, he’d given me a different nickname. He hadn’t come every day, but when you have to lie and sneak out and break the fucking _law_ just to see somebody, 279 days out of two years really isn’t that bad of a track record.

I looked at the cover of the journal. It was black, with faded purple letters that read, “Emo and Proud.” It was the first gift Roman had gotten me, as a joke after calling me an “emo nightmare” the day before. I smirked – considering the fact that I was your textbook emo teenager now, Roman really hadn’t been wrong.

I touched my silver headphones and fished around in my hoodie pocket for my little black MP3 player. Both of these were gifts from Roman, too. He’d downloaded some of my favorite songs onto the MP3 player and had painted lightning bolts and other detailing on the headphones with glitter glue and puffy paint before giving them both to me as a Christmas present. I traced the bumpy storm cloud with my index finger and smiled at the memory.

I looked down at my combat boots. Another gift from Roman. He’d gotten me those for my tenth birthday, and since my feet are as tiny as hell, I can still squeeze them into those boots.

I touched my eyeshadow, trying my best not to smear it. Roman had given me the palette of dark shades with the combat boots. It’s all dried up and expired now, but if you put a little water into it, it still kind of works. 

I wrapped my hand around my crystal necklace. You guessed it – Roman had gotten it for me. It was my eleventh birthday, and as soon as I saw what it was, I put it on. I haven’t taken it off since, because it was so special to me. And I will never forget what Roman said when he gave it to me.

_ “See, it’s purple because…you guys told me the stories about the pure violet wixen, right? And how they gain those powers throughout their lives and they can make people always tell the truth and shake the entire world with their magic? Well, I think you deserve all the magic in the world, because you’re incredible. And I never want you to forget that, so this is just a little reminder.” _

I’ll admit it – I’d cried when he said that. Because it was just so genuine and kind and true. (It might have also been because I had sort of a…teeny tiny…okay, gigantic crush on Roman, but that’s beside the point.)

And I thumbed through my journal again, looking at the 279 other gifts Roman had given me. They were all written in my thin black chicken-scratch, and my favorites were circled in red. _Panic! At The Everywhere,_ his first one. _Sunshine,_ when it was pouring rain for a week straight. _Doctor Gloom_ , when I was sick with the flu and very grumpy. _J.D-lightful,_ after hearing one – and only one – song from _Heathers_. (I think if he’d heard all of it at eleven he would have been scarred for life.) _Supreme Dark Overlord of Negative Commerce_ , the ridiculously long one. And _Hot Topic,_ the last one he gave me before he got caught.

That was six years ago. Too damn long.

**_He could have broken the rules. He could have done it for you._ **

That thought…it was mine, but…it didn’t feel like my own.

**_But he didn’t._ **

Where was this voice coming from? They didn’t feel right, but…the thoughts themselves weren’t wrong.

**_You mean nothing to him._ **

_Yes, I do,_ I thought. _I mean more to him than you could know…right?_

Wait, since when was this voice a ‘you’?

**_You are worthless to him. You’re worthless to everyone._ **

Maybe…maybe I wasn’t right. Maybe this this weird voice was.

In those 279 days, I never gave him another nickname. Only Princey.

_It’s only ever been Princey._

The tears started to fall before I realized they were falling. My knees gave way, and I collapsed onto the dirt beneath my favorite willow tree. The place where we met.

**_Worthless._ **

My head was in between my knees, my journal was soaked with saltwater, and my body shook with sob after sob after sob.

_I miss you so much._


	9. Returns, Rule Breaking, and Remembrance

Present Day

_[POV: 3_ _rd_ _(Logan)]_

“I _swear_ on my father’s life,” Roman declared, “If I _ever_ have to go to one of those ridiculously stupid foreign trade meetings again –”

“I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I were you,” Logan suggested, carefully placing the prince’s suitcase on his bed as Roman dramatically huffed and sat in his leather armchair, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. “Besides, you’ll have to do meetings like this all the time when you become king.”

“To hell with the monarchy, then!” Roman waved a fist in the air. “Logan, seriously, I will do _anything_ to keep myself from going to one of those awful things for the rest of my fabulous existence! And no meeting or session or debate or whatever bull _that_ was should last _six godforsaken months!_ ”

“While I do agree the length of this particular session was a bit unorthodox,” Logan replied, “you’ve reached the age of majority. You’re going to have a lot more responsibilities than you previously did.”

“Oh yeah, there’s the other awful thing,” Roman grumbled. “We were overseas over my _birthday!_ My _eighteenth_ birthday! No one should have to endure stupid foreign trade ridiculousness over their _birthday_ , Logan!”

Why did Logan even try to reason with… _this?_ “Roman, you spent your eighteenth birthday in Paris. You and your father actually did some sightseeing that day. I spent _my_ eighteenth birthday in a –”

“It should be illegal,” Roman announced, clearly not listening. “I’m going to make that a law. No person should have to spend their birthday overseas dealing with foreign matters that literally no one cares about.”

“You’re going to be one hell of a ruler,” Logan muttered under his breath. “Roman, you do know why he scheduled the session the way he did, right?”

“Who, the devil?”

“No, your father.”

“Same difference if he was the one who scheduled all of this.”

“But do you know why?”

“Because he hates birthdays?”

“Well, birthdays have something to do with it, yes,” Logan started, “but –”

“Oh…oh my goodness,” Roman whispered, touching his leather cord bracelet. To Logan’s knowledge, the tan cord with the single faded red wooden bead had been a gift from Virgil, one of the wixen Roman had become good friends with all those years ago. “Wait –”

Logan gave Roman a knowing smile. “Roman, you have officially reached the age of majority. I think your father might have wanted you to forget that fact; however, I did not. Because you have reached the age of majority…”

“My father’s _restraining orders_ against me can go to hell!” Roman exclaimed. “I can go places without a guard and without my father’s permission!”

“Well, technically, if you went back to the forest, you’d still be breaking the law, but yes. Your… _restrictions_ are no longer effective.”

“I can go back,” Roman breathed. “Logan, I can actually go back!” Roman looked more jubilant than he had looked in a long time. He zipped open his suitcase and pulled out a white jacket and a red scarf. As he hurriedly put them on, Logan asked, “Wait, you’re going _now?_ ”

“There’s no time like the present, Microsoft Nerd!” Roman yelled as he ran out of his bedroom door. “Farewell, my good tutor slash former babysitter!”

Logan rolled his eyes at the nickname, but Roman wasn’t wrong…

After some thought, he carefully pulled out his finest stationary and the phone number of the best florist in the kingdom. There was something he needed to do.

.o0o.

_[POV: 3r_ _d_ _(Roman)]_

Roman couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this happy as he skipped through the snowy town streets. He was very happy. No, he was ecstatic! He was more than ecstatic! This was such a glorious day! Granted, it was a little cold for his liking, but hey, the cold never bothered him anyway, right?

Patton’s house looked locked up and all the lights were off. Roman frowned at the sight. He’d really wanted to tell Patton about his freedom! _Oh well,_ he thought. _I’ll just tell him the next time I see him._

He placed his hand on the chain-link to climb it, but immediately got zapped and shot about five feet back. He rubbed his now-burning hand against his hip and scratched his head in confusion.

So the barrier’s security had improved since he was eleven. Yeah, that made sense. He couldn’t climb the gate like he used to. How was someone to work around that?

He spotted a thin patch of ice near the bottom of the fence. It didn’t really look all that safe, so of course Roman did the smart thing and stood right in the middle of it. He heard a tiny crack and looked down at his feet, and then started to panic because _oh no what if I’ve been trapped? What if something bad and creepy is right below this ice and I just committed myself to death?_

And that’s when he saw the branches.

One of the oak trees near the barrier had overgrown completely over the fence, and the branches twisted and bent around each other to create a primitive ladder of sorts that Roman could surely work with to get to the other side. He smirked and started climbing. He was going back.

He was going to see Virgil again, no matter what it took.

_1 Hour Later_

“Well,” Roman gasped in between breaths, “That… _wheeze…_ was a lot harder… _wheeze…_ than I thought it… _wheeze…_ was going to be.”

There were a lot of unstable branches and he’d almost slipped and fallen several times, but somehow, he’d made it to the top of the tree.

_Now all that’s left to do is come crashing down to the other side and possibly kill myself. Fun._

He took a deep breath, bent his knees, and jumped.

And he landed on…sand?

Roman looked down, and sure enough, a large pile of white, snow-dusted sand was what he saw. He quickly stood up and winced as he scraped his knee on a rock. “Ow…”

“Who are you?” asked a voice Roman was sure belonged to a tiny child.

Roman yelped as he turned around to see a little girl looking up at him curiously. She couldn’t have been more than seven, maybe eight years old. She wore a pale blue dress with a dark blue winter coat, white snow boots, and a silver charm bracelet. She was pale, with short white-blond hair and bright silvery eyes.

“A tourist?” Roman suggested, getting up and brushing the sand off of himself.

“We don’t get a lot of tourists,” the girl replied. She then saw the state of Roman’s knee. “Are you okay?”

Roman nodded. “I’m alright, I just scraped my knee is all,” he reassured her. “No big deal.”

“Let me fix it,” the girl said. She put her finger on Roman’s knee, and some silver magic came out of it. After about two seconds, she pulled her finger away. Roman looked down and touched his knee. Miraculously, all sign of injury was gone. Roman then realized how.

“You’re a healer,” he said with a smile.

The girl grinned and nodded. “Yep! My name’s Olive. What’s yours?”

“I’m Roman.”

Olive stared for a second and then gasped. “ _Wait!_ Are you the prince who used to come here all the time?”

Roman became very confused at that. “I…what?”

“My dad and I have heard so many stories about a prince named Roman who used to come to the forest all the time! He stopped coming right before we got here about six years ago, but he’d always climb the fence and listen to our stories and stuff and he was Virgil’s best friend! Is that you?”

Roman smiled at the mention of Virgil’s name. “Yes, I believe that’s me.”

Olive’s face broke out into a wide grin and she grabbed a surprised Roman by the hand. “Come on, come on! Your friends are going to want to see you again! They miss you a lot! Come _on!_ ”

And then, they were in the fire circle, and Roman could have burst into tears right then and there.

Standing there, in the middle of the circle, was Marin. Her hands were over her mouth and her eyes were welling up with tears. But there she was, in all of her badass mind-reader single mom glory, and it finally hit Roman how much he had missed this place.

“Marin, Marin! I found the prince! I found the prince!” Olive exclaimed, bouncing up and down. “The one in your stories? I found him! I found him!”

“Yes,” Marin whispered. “Yes, you did.” Then she ran up to Roman and wrapped him in a tight hug, one full of pain and hope all at once.

And when she let go, she slapped him across the face.

“ _Ow!”_ Roman exclaimed, rubbing at his face. “What was that for?!”

“You have some nerve not coming here for six years _straight_ ,” Marin snarled. “We’ve missed you a lot, you know. More than you could possibly imagine.” Her eyes welled up again. “I’m sorry. I know it was beyond your control, I just…” she choked out a laugh. “We’re just really happy to see you again.”

“We?” Roman echoed, and then he looked past Marin.

And there was his family. There was Austin, and Monica, and Nia, and Talia, and Joan, and Talyn, and Leslie, Kian, and Orion. All of them looked shocked.

He smiled as he walked towards the group. “Hello, everyone. It’s nice to see you all again.”

“ _Roman?!_ ” Monica asked in disbelief. “Nice to see you too, kid. We missed ya a lot.”

“ _Damn,_ Roman,” Leslie exclaimed, looking him up and down. “You look _fine_!”

Roman gave Leslie a sheepish smile as he scratched the back of his neck. “Why, thank you. You three don’t look so bad yourselves.”

“So why the six-year gap? Decided you were too good for us?” Kian smirked.

“He got caught by a guard, remember?” Orion asked. He looked strange, almost translucent, but Orion was never exactly tan to begin with, so Roman decided to ignore it.

“And put on palace arrest for six years,” Roman muttered, rolling his eyes.

“Well, you’re here now, and that’s what matters,” Austin said. “Welcome back, Roman.”

“Thank you, Austin,” Roman replied as the group of wixen spread out and went back to their duties. Marin walked up to Roman with a knowing smile on her face.

“He’s by his tree,” Marin said softly.

Roman smiled and shook his head. “You really are creepy sometimes, you know that?”

“What? Oh, I wasn’t reading your mind,” Marin said.

Roman’s eyes widened. “Pardon?”

Marin gave him a look _._ “ _Roman_. Every time you came here, no matter how warm or cold, no matter how sick or well, no matter how old you were, you always came for Virgil. Always. It doesn’t take a mind reader to figure out why you’re here now.” She gave Roman another bittersweet smile, and for the first time, Roman saw the wrinkles on her face and the bags under her eyes. “He’s by his willow tree. Go.”

_Thank you,_ Roman thought.

“You’re welcome,” Marin said as she walked back to her house.

Roman started towards the willow tree.

.o0o.

_[POV: Virgil]_

A huge commotion had broken out at the fire circle, but all the noise had been drowned out by the incredible art that was Pray For The Wicked. As Say Amen blasted through my headphones, I leaned against my tree again and flipped through my notebook again as I fiddled with my necklace again, reading all of my names for what had to have been the millionth time.

Say Amen came to a stop, and in the moment of silence, I heard a warm voice say, “Hello there, My Chemically Imbalanced Romance.”

I froze. _There’s no way in hell._

I paused my music before Hey Look Ma, I Made It could start and took off my headphones.

I didn’t want to turn around.

Turning around meant accepting the lifetime’s worth of warmth and joy that had seeped into all of my being just from hearing his voice for the first time in six years. Turning around meant I had to stop putting my feelings in denial. Turning around meant I had to face reality.

Turning around meant I wasn’t a kid anymore.

Turning around meant neither was he.

I stood my ground by the willow tree. I didn’t turn around.

“Virgil,” Roman started, “Can you hear me?” _Yes. I’ve wanted to hear your voice for years._

I said nothing. I didn’t move.

I heard Roman let out a sigh. “I thought you might be mad.” _A little. But never a lot. Never at you._ “I’d be, too, if I were in your place. But I tried so hard to come back here, Virgil, and not a day went by that I didn’t think of you. I can promise you that much.” _I thought of you, too. Every single day._

Silence. It was growing and choking both of us and I had to say something.

I sighed. “You know, six years is a hell of a long time to wait.” I heard an intake of breath from the other side of the tree.

“I know, I know, I’m so –”

“I mean,” I cut Roman off and smirked, “I had 279 nicknames before you got caught, and I was stuck on such an awful, uneven number of nicknames for so long…” I heard giggling and I smiled. “The pain was almost un _bear_ able, Princey; I can’t express to you how infuriating it was to go _six years_ without having an even 280.” At this point, Roman was laughing heartily and I felt my face flush pink as my smile grew wider. Good. This – this was good. “Oh yeah, and there was something in the back of my head about friendship and stuff, but it didn’t really seem that important.”

I suddenly felt strong, toned arms wrap around my waist. After my moment of shock, I wrapped my arms around Roman’s torso and leaned into his shoulder.

“It’s a good thing I came back, then,” Roman whispered into my ear. I shivered.

“Yeah, it sure is,” I whispered as the cold December wind pushed against us.

“You know, you’re almost skinnier than you were when I left,” Roman said, amused.

I punched his back where my hand was. “Oh, shut up.”

When we pulled apart, we kept our heads down and our foreheads touching. I could feel Roman’s hair tickling my forehead through my bangs. We couldn’t see each other’s faces.

“I don’t want to look up,” I muttered, sliding my hood over my head.

“Why not?” Roman asked.

“I just want us to stay kids,” I answered. “I just want us to be ten years old again and without a care in the goddamn world.” _There’s also the perfectly normal and reasonable fear that you’ll be too fucking pretty for my little bisexual heart to handle and that I’ll never be able to speak to you in coherent sentences again, but who cares about that, right?_

A good distance away, I could hear my mom snicker. No fucking privacy, I swear. I sent a kind message her way. _I love you, Mom, but also screw you._

I looked down at Roman’s wrist, and to my surprise, the bracelet I’d made him was still there. The leather was worn-out and the wooden bead’s stain was faded, but it was still holding together.

“Is that…the bracelet I gave you?” I asked nervously.

“Of course it is,” he replied. “I never took it off.”

_He’s probably lying,_ I thought. I took a quick glance over at my mom, who shook her head. _I guess…maybe not?_

“Wait, are those the combat boots I got you for your tenth birthday?” Roman asked, shaking me from my thoughts.

“Um…maybe?”

“Your feet still fit in those? I’m astounded!”

“Well, my feet are tiny, I guess…just add it to the list of wrong things about me.”

“Do some of those things happen to be on your face?”

“ _Everything_ on my face is on that list. I’m ugly.”

“I don’t think you’re as ugly as you say.”

“How do you know?”

“Virgil, I want to see you,” Roman said sweetly, his voice so gentle it shocked me.

My eyes narrowed despite knowing full well Roman couldn’t see. “Didn’t you hear me? I’m ugly as hell.”

“And you still default to self-deprecation. _Goodness_ , some things never change,” Roman said with a laugh. “Okay, we’re going to look up on the count of three, okay?”

“Fine. One,” I said nervously,

“Two,” Roman said confidently,

“ _Three,_ ” we said together.

I looked up.

And my earlier fears proved themselves to be completely and totally justified, because Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Roman’s skin was lightly tanned with beauty marks on his cheek, on his forehead, and just above the corner of his upper lip. The light in his caramel eyes was deeper and that made them even more hypnotizing. His hair was a little bit darker, and it looked wavy and silky to the touch. And – oh, dear God. His lips were rosy and full and they looked so, so soft. He was so unbelievably _Roman_ that it hurt.

“Hi,” he whispered as his cheeks became a pretty shade of pink.

I immediately felt my face start to burn. “H-hey.”

Roman’s mouth (his damn _lips_ ) curled up into a smirk. “Ugly as hell, my ass,” he said. “Virgil, have you seen yourself?”

“Yes?” I responded, trying to stop my knees from shaking. “You know there are these things called mirrors that let you see yourself. Have you heard of them? I’m sure you’re very familiar with them with a face as fucking pretty as yours.” _Oh shit. I said that out loud._

More giggling, but this time, it wasn’t from my mom. It was from Roman. This laugh was more of an amused hum; it was softer and gentler than his first. More intimate. And god _damn_ it there went my shaky knees and burning face again.

Roman gave me a soft, warm smile, and the look in his eyes…it seemed almost loving. Almost.

And maybe it was a loving smile. Maybe that look was meant just for me. Maybe I just missed it. But hey, what else is an anxiety-ridden guy like me supposed to think when a gorgeous boy who’s so out of your league it hurts smiles at you like that?

Roman carefully took off my hood and cupped my cheek. I felt my face burn against his skin. “Well, I’m not really much next to you. You’re beautiful,” he said softly. Breathlessly. And damn it all, that _look._ It was still there.

Maybe it was meant for me.

Or maybe Roman was just being Roman.

Before that very instant, no one had ever called me beautiful.

Then again, before that very instant, no one had ever needed to.

I flung my arms around him and squeezed as tightly as I could. He returned the embrace, warm and strong, and I felt like my stomach was filled with butterflies. Cliché, I know, but hey, clichés exist for a reason, right?

“I missed you so much, Roman,” I whispered. I could already feel the tears coming.

And I’d never felt more real than when he said this, softly but surely, slowly as to not miss a single word:

“I missed you more than the stars miss the sky, my dear Virgil.”

.o0o.

_[POV: ???]_

Well. This might throw a wrench in my plans.

I mean, it _didn’t_ throw a wrench in my plans. I definitely knew about this and _definitely_ incorporated it into my master plot.

I can’t use this to my advantage, can I?

The time to act isn’t soon. I just have to be impatient.

At least I don’t have the indigo boy. At least I haven’t taught him everything. At least he’s a terrible ally.

Well, thankfully I have plenty of time.

And by the way, if you haven’t figured out who I am yet, it’s definitely _not_ obvious by now.

I’m just saying.


	10. Flowers, Love Notes, and Messy Buns

_[POV: 3_ _rd_ _(Logan)]_

Logan was, to be quite frank, a fucking mess.

His glasses were cracked from tripping over a pebble in the square, his dress shirt and tie were wrinkled from throwing them on in a rush, and his favorite dark gray peacoat was stained with mud. His hair was a tangled mess, and his neat ponytail had devolved into a messy bun.

Logan had also forgotten to mention that it was nearly one o’clock in the morning.

But he looked at the oversized brown paper bag currently residing in his sweaty right palm, and he managed to smile.

He was doing this. He was actually going to do this. After all, like Roman said, there’s no time like the present. And presently it was past midnight, and Logan was visiting his favorite place in the world to confess to his favorite person in the world. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous, but he couldn’t lie forever. He’d lied long enough. He walked down the snow-covered path, shivering as the wind picked up speed.  

He spotted an empty gum wrapper on the sidewalk. He bent down to look at it. It was watermelon; Logan could tell by the brightly colored wrapper. It was his favorite, even though he hated the taste.

_“Do you want some gum? I have extra.”_

_Logan looked down from his book at his window seat in the study to see a little girl holding out a box of gum with the pieces wrapped in highlighter pink and green paper. She looked a bit older than Logan, though not by much. She had freckly skin, short messy blond hair, and bright blue-green eyes. She was wearing a bright blue dress shirt and jeans. She smiled at Logan. “It’s watermelon.”_

_Logan carefully placed his bookmark in his book and put it down as he took a piece of the gum. He hadn’t really liked the book much anyway – it was apparently written for six-year-olds like him, but he considered himself much smarter than that. He scooted over on the seat and tapped the empty space, and the girl grinned and bounced up onto the cushion._

_Logan carefully unwrapped the gum, put it in his mouth, and immediately spit it out into the wrapper. “Oh my gosh, that’s gross!” he exclaimed. “How do you eat that stuff?”_

_“It is a little bit weird, yeah,” the girl admitted. “But I like it so…hey, we have the same glasses!”_

_It was true. They were wearing the same style of black-framed glasses. Logan nodded, a little shaken by the change of subject. “Yep.”_

_“What’s your name?” the girl asked._

_“I’m Logan,” Logan said, holding out a hand._

_The girl giggled as she took his hand, trying to hold back her laughs as they shook. She smiled at him._

_“My name’s Jenny.”_

Logan kept walking down the hill and his fist grew tighter with every step he took. Okay, so maybe he was a little nervous about this.

All of a sudden, Logan felt the ground disappear from beneath his feet. It seemed he’d tripped on absolutely nothing and he’d fallen on the ground. All of his spare change scattered everywhere, but the brown paper bag’s contents stayed safe. He sighed as he moved on all fours to pick up the change.

_“Darn it! Darn it, darn it, darn it!” Jen said in frustration as Logan approached her from the village streets._

_Logan looked at her, confused. “What? What’s going on?”_

_Jen gestured to all the coins that had scattered around her feet on the pavement. “I just dropped all this everywhere and I needed that money, I just got for babysitting and I don’t get very much but I needed it, I needed it, I need it, I –” Her eyes started welling up as she immediately got down on her hands and knees, picking up every loose coin she could find. Logan did the same._

_When they had found most of it, Logan asked, “Why was that money so important, Jen?”_

_Jen looked down at her shoes. “Well…I…I…”_

_“I won’t make fun of you, I promise.”_

_Jen sighed. “I…was…going to get a binder,” she whispered._

_“A binder?” Logan asked, but was immediately hushed by Jen._

_“Shh!” she whispered, pressing a finger to her lips. “It’s…yeah, it’s kinda crazy, I know, but –”_

_“Well, I can help you. We can go to the stationary store and we can look at sizes and colors and plastic types and whether or not it has a built-in three hole puncher –”_

_“Logan, it’s…not that kind of binder…” Jen trailed off and then sighed. “You don’t understand.”_

_“What don’t I understand?” Logan asked helplessly._

_“Don’t feel bad. I wasn’t expecting you to. You’re only twelve, after all.” Jen placed a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “Please, just stay twelve forever?”_

_“I’ll try,” Logan joked._

_“See ya, Lolo. Thanks for helping me.”_

_Logan waved as Jen walked to the clothing store._

In hindsight, of course, Logan knew exactly what Jen had been talking about. He only wished he had known back then.

As Logan approached Patton’s house, he noticed that there was still a light on. He felt all of his limbs begin to shake with nervousness. He could hear the paper bag crinkle as his arms twitched, and as he struggled to keep his balance, he turned his gaze to the apple tree outside of the little cottage, now snow-covered and bare.

_“I wish you could understand this, Logan, but you can't!_ _” Jen exclaimed as he slammed his fist against the apple tree. Snow fell from the uppermost branch and hit the ground between him and Logan._

_Logan’s eyes widened and he stepped back._

_“I’m sorry I don’t understand,” Logan replied. “I really am. I wish I could help you in some way. I wish I was older than fifteen so that I might have a chance of understanding a sliver of what you’re going through. But I hate seeing you so upset, and if I can do something to help with that, then I will. I want to help you, Jen, in any way I can.”_

_“I just…” Logan turned around to see his best friend holding back sobs. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…I’m putting this…all on you…at once…and…”_

_“You’re not putting anything on me,” Logan replied calmly. “You’re upset and I want to help you. Unless me leaving you here is what will help you most, I’m staying here with you.”_

_Then Jen broke down, collapsing underneath the tree and hugging his head to his knees. Logan kneeled next to him and put his hand on his. Jen looked up at him with wide, teary eyes._

_“You’re so lucky, Lolo,” he said. “You’re so lucky you were born what you want to be. You’re lucky you live in the palace and don’t have to fight for your freedom, you’re lucky you have parental figures who accept you, and I’m sorry for yelling at you. Sometimes I just wish I had what you have.”_

_“The palace could provide funding for you,” Logan offered._

_Jen scoffed. “No, they wouldn’t. No one provides funding for surgeries. And my parents won’t call me anything other than Jennifer, so they’re not going to be any help.”_

_“Jen isn’t even a masculine name,” Logan said exasperatedly, repeating a conversation he and Jen had gone through many times before. “It’s just a shorter version of Jennifer or Jenny.”_

_“And yet my parents are in still in denial that I’m a guy, so Jennifer it is.”_

_“Thank goodness your eighteenth birthday is in a couple of weeks,” Logan sighed. “If no one will provide funding for surgeries, the least they can do is give you a legal name change.”_

_Jen smiled at that. “Yeah, in sixteen days, I’ll be…” he buried his head in his hands. “I don’t even know what I want my name to be, ugh!” He looked up at Logan, eyes wide and curious. “You have any suggestions?”_

_Logan flushed. “Well…I have one…it’s been in the back of my head for a while.”_

_Jen grinned. “What is it?”_

_“I feel weird picking out your own name for you,” Logan admitted._

_“Hey, my parents picked out Jennifer for me,” Jen said, shrugging. “If I don’t like whatever name you came up with, I can just get Roman to pick a new one.”_

_“As if,” Logan retorted, smiling. “Have you seen the names that boy comes up with for his fictional characters?”_

_“Well, he is very creative,” Jen said with a giggle. “But I’d like to hear the name my best friend came up with for me before I resort to asking a nine-year-old.”_

_“Alright…” Logan trailed off. “The name I had in the back of my head was Patton, spelled P-A-T-T-O-N. It comes from two places. The first is pathos, the emotional aspect of the rhetorical triangle and the opposite of Logos, which is where my name comes from. The second is the prefix pat-, which comes from Patri-, meaning father, since I know you want to raise children one day and...” Logan looked at his shoes. “You didn’t want to know all that, did you?”_

_Logan felt an arm wrap around his shoulders. He looked up to see a shining, starry-eyed face staring right at him, and if Logan had observed his heart rate accelerating, he chose to ignore it._

_Patton smiled, and he looked happier than Logan had seen him in a long time._

_“It’s perfect.”_

Logan shakily reached his fist to the front door and knocked it. Almost immediately, the door cracked open and Patton poked his head out and smiled. Logan had to work hard to hide his blush; never in his life had he been more grateful for the cold that had turned his face pink already.

“Hiya, Lolo!” Patton greeted cheerily, but upon seeing Logan’s state of being, his brows furrowed in concern. “Oh my goodness, you’re a mess! Are you okay?” Logan simply responded by shoving the bag into Patton’s chest. Patton almost dropped it but managed to keep his grip on it. “What’s this?” Patton asked, his eyes wide and curious. _Like a godforsaken puppy._

Logan looked down at his shoes. “Just please open it,” he muttered almost angrily.

“Oh, um, okay –”

“Oh, goodness, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, I’m just…yeah.”

Logan watched nervously as Patton carefully opened the bag. The plastic surrounding the bouquet of crocus flowers, yellow tulips, and red roses crinkled as he took it out of the bag. Logan had chosen the flowers carefully. They meant cheerfulness, sunshine in your smile, and love. Patton gasped as he looked at the bouquet.

“Oh my goodness, Logan!” Patton exclaimed as he stepped outside and closed the door behind him. “They’re beautiful! Thank you so much!”

Logan smiled. Because it was the middle of December, the flowers hadn’t exactly been cheap, but Logan had thought seeing Patton’s face would make up for the expenses.

It had.

Logan then pointed a finger to the bag.

“There’s more,” he mumbled.

“There is?” Patton asked excitedly. He carefully placed the bouquet on the bench on his porch and pulled from the bag a small, neatly folded note. Logan thought he might explode as Patton read the note. Logan had memorized what it said after hours of writing and rewriting it.

**Patton –**

**I know I’m not very good at expressing my feelings in words, but I thought writing them down would do me better than trying to speak them out loud. Patton, ever since that first day with the watermelon gum, you have amazed me with the way you are so sure of your feelings and so caring towards your brother, Prince Roman, and myself. You were and are one of the only people I can truly rely on, because you are the only one who knows everything about me, from my love of Crofter’s jam to my hatred of green pens and everything in between. And of course I’m rambling now, so let me just get to the point:**

**I love you.**

**I love the way your whole face lights up whenever you see a cute animal. I love how your door is always open and your smile is always bright. I love that you always try to push through, even in your darkest hours. The only thing I would change about you is making you okay with other people seeing you upset, because you deserve all the love in the world for all the love you give me, Roman, Thomas, and pretty much anyone else we meet.**

**The realization that I harbored romantic feelings towards you dawned on me when I was sixteen years old, and they’ve probably existed for longer than even that. I apologize for waiting this long to tell you. I’m just extremely scared. I understand if you do not reciprocate my feelings, but I hope our friendship will not be changed by this if that is the case. I just needed to get this off of my chest before I combusted.**

~~**Sincerely** ~~ **Love,**

**Logan Woods**

“Oh my goodness…” Patton said breathlessly, putting his hand to his mouth. He carefully refolded the note and stuck it into his pocket. When he looked up at Logan, his eyes were filled with tears, but he was smiling wider than Logan had ever seen. And what came out of his mouth shocked him.

“I love how the littlest, stupidest things can set you off for no reason,” he said, letting out a choked laugh. “I love how you’re so careful with your words, and I love that you’re so flipping smart. I love how you question everything around you. I love how you’re so curious. But what I love most about you is that you do care a lot. A lot more than you’d ever admit.”

Patton blushed and grinned. “I guess what I’m trying to say is…I love you too, Logan. I have for a really long time.”

Logan let out a sigh of relief and Patton laughed and wrapped his arms around Logan’s chest. Logan flushed. “Is this…normally…where I ask you to be my boyfriend?”

“I would love to be your boyfriend, Lolo,” Patton said alongside a bunch of giggles. “We’re acting like high schoolers with this whole confession thing, huh?”

“I suppose so.” Logan’s blush turned darker and he carefully placed his hands on Patton’s shoulders, drawing him even closer. “So by that mindset…this…is when I – _mmph!_ ”

And before he realized it, Patton’s heels were off the ground and his lips were on Logan’s. Logan made a few observations. His heart was beating very, very, quickly. Patton’s lips were very soft and he tasted like vanilla. They were both warm despite the snow that had started falling only moments before.

Then he decided that maybe he should just enjoy the kiss instead of rattling off observations to himself. For the first time, he let everything go, and he realized there was nowhere else he wanted to be but right here, at one o'clock in the morning, kissing the man he’d fallen in love with all those years ago. All he wanted in this point in time was to be with Patton, to kiss Patton, to love Patton.

So he did, and the snowstorm swirled around them, making spirals and hearts in the air as it blew.

Logan Woods and Patton Foster were both messes, but at least they had each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always get nervous writing about experiences I don't know about (I'm referring to Patton being trans in this chapter) If any details could be fixed/changed please just let me know! Thanks!


	11. Rolling Chairs, Studies, And Flashlights

_ [POV: 3 _ _ rd _ _ (Roman)] _

“YOU WHAT?!” Roman yelled in ecstasy as Logan winced and pushed his rolling chair further away from him. Patton grinned and Logan screamed.

_ “EEEE – equals MC scared! _ ” Logan exclaimed. “And  _ yes _ , but for heaven’s sake, please keep your voice down!” Roman and the exhausted royal adviser were in the castle’s library, trying to finish some paperwork for Roman’s father. Patton had joined them to try and boost morale; needless to say the trio wasn’t getting much done.

“But you didn’t tell me!” Roman exclaimed as he gripped the arms of his red velvet chair. “You kissed! A week ago! At 1 in the  _ flipping _ AM! Goodness  _ gracious _ , it took you idiots long enough!”

“And this is why I decided to go at one o'clock in the morning last week,” Logan grumbled. “I thought you wouldn’t find out for a good while and therefore not be able to turn our romantic interactions into a bigger deal than the goddamn apocalypse. We kissed, and are now in a relationship, and that is  _ it. _ ”

“But you guys are so  _ cute! _ ” Roman squealed again. “Should your ship name be Lotton or Patgan?”

“I swear, sometimes your maturity level matches that of a two-year-old’s.” Logan tried to say this angrily, but it ended up coming out endearingly. Patton scooted closer to him and ruffled his hair, which resulted in more blushing from Logan and more squealing from Roman.

“Can I be the best man at your wedding?” Roman asked excitedly.

“Um…okay!” Patton said.

“As we are not even engaged yet, no wedding planning will be necessary for the time being, thank you very much,” Logan said, twirling his black ballpoint pen in his fingers.  “Although I think the invitations should be pale blue – never mind. We really need to complete this paperwork.”

“Aww, that’s my favorite color!” Patton asked.

Logan raised an eyebrow. “I thought it was…oh, whatever. Favorite colors change…I guess.”

They worked in silence for a few minutes, with no sounds but the flipping of pages, the smooth slide of pen on paper, and the occasional humming from Roman and table-drumming from Patton. After a good amount of time had passed, Roman and Patton heard Logan put down his pen.

“I was worried, you know,” Logan whispered.

Roman looked at him with an astounded face. “Breaking news: Logan, the robotic royal adviser, admits that he feels things! Will pigs fly next?”

“Aww, why were you worried?” Patton asked, pouting his lips in concern.

“First of all, Roman, please do not make a joke out of this. And second, Patton, I was very nervous and tired and a mess. You saw what I looked like. And I was so, so afraid that I’d get rejected.”

“Why? Patton’s been crazy about you since forever,” Roman supplied. Patton nodded in confirmation.

“Well, I didn’t know that,” Logan said.

“Yeah, because you’re dense,” Roman shot back.

“Hey, it’s okay guys,” Patton said, trying to put the pair at ease. “And dense or not, you’re still Logan. And we’re still happy.”

“I’m happy for you too,” Roman said. “Even if I’m not showing it in the most… _ conventional _ way. And I already know you guys are going to be really happy together.”

“Thank you,” Logan said sincerely.

The group fell into another silent lull for a few minutes. Logan put down his pen again and exclaimed, “Patton, Roman, talk about something, please.”

Roman dropped his pen onto the floor and Patton hastily bent down to pick it up. Roman looked at Logan. “But I thought you said –”

“I will do anything to keep myself away from this brain-cell-destroying task.”

“Thank  _ god _ ,” Roman sighed exasperatedly. “Soooo…about that wedding…”

“You went back to the forest a couple of days ago, right, Roman?” Patton interjected. “How did that go?”

“I forgot to ask you about that,” Logan added, interest clearly piqued. “How was it?”

Roman thought about it for a second. “Well, when I tried to climb the fence it zapped me so I climbed a tree instead and then I fell and scraped my knee but then I met a little girl witch named Olive who healed me.”

Patton’s eyes widened. “Wow, a healer? How old was she?”

Roman narrowed his eyes in concentration, trying to picture Olive in his head. “Seven, maybe eight?” he guessed.

“That’s very young,” Logan added. “You didn’t know her from before?”

Roman shook his head. “She must have arrived at the village after I got caught. Anyway, she took me back to the fire circle, and…there they were. There was my family. All waiting for me.” Roman felt his eyes welling up. “I missed them a lot more than I realized.”

“And what about Virgil? How is he?” Patton asked.

At the mention of Virgil’s name, Roman felt his face burn up and he buried his head in his hands.

Roman couldn’t see the other’s faces, but he would bet money Logan was smirking and Patton was grinning. “He’s doing well, I presume?” Logan asked.

Roman fell back into his chair and looked up at the ceiling. “He’s  _ gorgeous, _ ” he breathed. He looked at Logan and Patton with what had to have been a stupid, dorky grin.

Logan’s smirk grew. “Oh?” he asked, a playful tone in his voice.

“He has this adorable smattering of freckles on his nose and cheeks, and his hair is purple and it’s really soft, and his smile is tiny and warm and really sweet, and his eyes…” Roman sighed. “Have I told you I am unbelievably, catastrophically gay?”

“I never would have known it,” Logan deadpanned.

“So was Virgil happy to see you?” Patton asked, becoming more and more invested in the conversation with every passing second.

“I hope so,” Roman whined. “I missed him so much, and he seemed happy, but, well, Virgil’s Virgil.”

“I’m sure he missed you very much,” Logan remarked.

“He did. He said he did, anyway. I just…”

“Had a crush on him when you were eleven that has seemingly evolved into love with age?” Patton blurted out.

Roman laughed. “Yeah. That.”

And suddenly, something in Logan’s eyes went dark. “ _ Don’t go back _ ,” he whispered.

Roman and Patton looked at each other; Roman looked confused, Patton looked scared.

“Why shouldn’t he, Logan?” Patton asked.

“ _ You’ll just hurt him, _ ” Logan whispered again.  _ “It might be best to stay away.” _

“Hun, are you okay?” Patton asked.

Roman felt the urge to curl in on himself. He looked down at the table and frowned to himself. “Logan, how could you say that?” he asked as pain laced his voice.

“Say what?”

Roman looked up to see Logan’s eyes narrowed in confusion. They had returned to their normal royal blue color, as opposed to the blue-gray Roman had seen not seconds before.

“What?” Roman asked.

“What did I say?” Logan questioned.

“Logan, you kinda…went dark for a second there,” Patton said nervously.

“You said I shouldn’t go…back…you seriously don’t remember?” Roman asked in disbelief.

“I’m afraid not,” Logan admitted. “But if I hurt either of your feelings, I apologize.”

“That was weird,” Roman winced. “Your eyes just went gray and you started whispering about how I shouldn’t go back to the forest because I’d hurt Virgil if I did.”

“I personally think you’d hurt him more if you didn’t go back, but that’s just my opinion,” Patton supplied, shrugging his shoulders.

“I remember…saying…something? But I genuinely do not remember saying anything like what you described,” Logan said. “Roman, normally I would recommend asking your father about this, but he’s asleep…” he tapped his pen against the table and furrowed his brows in thought.

“Maybe we can look in the study for information,” Patton suggested.

“It might be worth a shot,” Roman agreed.

“I’ll come with you,” Logan offered.

Patton waved his hands frantically. “No, no, that’s okay. We’ll be fine. You finish up with this stuff.”

Logan raised an eyebrow in Roman’s direction, and Roman gave him a subtle shrug, but Logan nodded in agreement.

Logan picked up his black ballpoint pen, and then paused for a minute. He slowly put it down and picked up a dark green felt-tip instead. He began filling out the rest of the paperwork as Roman turned to the door to open it.

“Logan?” he called out.

Logan looked up from the pile. “Yes?”

“Thank you for offering to come with us.”

Logan nodded the pen towards Roman. “Of course.”

Roman and Patton slowly walked up the three flights of stairs to the study corridor. Apart from a “That was really weird,” from Patton and a hum of agreement from Roman, the only noises being made were creaky footsteps up the stairs to the study. Something seemed a little bit off to Roman, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it and it was driving him absolutely insane.

It wasn’t until they reached the study door when Roman finally realized what had been bothering him so much. He turned to Patton. “Hey, Patton?”

“Yeah?” Patton whispered back.

“What color was the pen Logan was using when we left?”

Patton thought for a moment before responding, “I think it was green. Why?”

“Oh! Nothing, it’s just…” Roman trailed off and started quickly tapping his foot against the marble floor before turning to Patton again. “You’re sure it was green?”

“I’m pretty sure. Why, is that weird?”

Roman frowned in confusion as Patton let out a series of intricate knocks. And then something dawned on him.

“Hey, Patton?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are we looking for resources in the study when we were just in the library?”

Patton stiffened but stayed silent as the study door opened. He turned to face the room and his eyes widened.

Sitting in the middle of the room, with his arms crossed and his head towards the ground, was Orion. His eyes were flickering indigo and he seemed to be very fatigued.

“Orion?” Roman asked. “How did you get here?”

“Illusions are powerful,” was Orion’s breathy response. “Everyone in the forest thinks I’m still there, and everyone in the kingdom thinks I’m a civilian.”

“But why –” Roman then noticed something odd in the picture window on the opposite wall. He ran to it.

As the sun began to set, most of the village’s lights began flickering to life. Roman would normally find the scene beautiful against the rose-gold sky, but right now his eyes were fixated on the small house a good stretch away from all the other ones.

The lights were on.

And that’s when everything clicked.

“You know what’s weird, Patton?” Roman began as he walked back towards the doorway where Patton was standing, “It’s very weird how quickly you changed the subject when I mentioned your wedding.”

“We’re not engaged yet. Why is that strange?” Patton asked. Roman saw a hint of nervousness in his eyes.

“But do you know what’s even weirder?” Roman asked, ignoring Patton. “What you changed the subject to.”

Patton frowned and Roman explained, “This is the first time I’ve seen you this week. When I went to the forest, I passed Patton’s house and he wasn’t there. And I know Logan didn’t tell him, because I didn’t tell him either. So how did you know about it? Because Patton sure didn’t.”

“You don’t have to refer to me in the third person,” ‘Patton’ said.

“Oh, I think I do,” Roman grumbled. “And Logan? It looked like his soul left his body for a couple of seconds. You’d think his best friend and boyfriend would be a  _ liiiiitle _ more concerned about that. Unless, of course, you’re the one who caused that. As a setup.”

‘Patton’ froze in the doorway.

“Who are you?” Roman asked, glaring at ‘Patton’.

Roman saw his mouth curl up into a smirk.

Orion’s eyes flashed brightly, and then dimmed. “I’m sorry, Roman,” he said timidly, causing Roman to turn.

“Sorry about what?” Roman asked.

“Really, I am sorry. He was a good teacher and I didn’t –”

“Sorry about  _ what? _ ” Roman asked again, this time slowly and more harshly.

Orion extended a finger to the doorway. Roman turned and his eyes widened in horror.

Patton was gone. In his place was a tall, pretentious, snake-like man wearing a bowler and a devilish grin. The only other part of the man he could see was his steely yellow eyes. Roman felt anger course through his veins.

“I know who you are,” Roman said coldly. “You son of a bitch.”

“You are clever,” Hydall said as Orion dashed out of the door.

“What did you do to him?” Roman asked.

Hydall laughed to himself as he leaned against the doorway. “Clever indeed,” he repeated, ignoring Roman. “And you  _ clearly _ care a lot about your royal adviser, because surely you didn’t leave him defenseless in the library.”

“Logan will be  _ fine _ ,” Roman said through his teeth.

“You’re damn right Logan will be fine,” Logan said coldly as he raced up the steps and drew a dagger. “Where is Patton?”

Roman silently cheered. Thank goodness Logan had caught on before he did. “How did you figure it out?” he whispered.

“Patton is aware that I hate green pens,” was Logan’s flighted response. “I switched to a green felt-tip right before you left and he made no note of it.”

Hydall snorted. “What kind of loser likes a man with such... _ weird  _ pen preferences?”

“For your information, my boyfriend does,” Logan snapped in reply. His glare could’ve turned a man to stone. “Where. Is. Patton?” he hissed.

“That  _ definitely _ matters to you, since it took you  _ such _ a short amount of time to figure out that I wasn’t actually him,” Hydall hissed in return.

Roman winced. Logan definitely wasn’t going to take that one well.

Logan narrowed his eyes, and Logan could tell he was trying to hold back tears. “We’ll find him, Hydall. We’ll find Patton and we’ll stop whatever it is you’re planning. We’ll fight against you, and we will win.”

“How nice to know you’re so confident in yourself,” Hydall replied, grinning. “You’re  _ absolutely  _ right. You and your teenage prince would  _ definitely  _ win against me if I ever gave you the chance to fight against me.”

He snapped his fingers and flashed his eyes, and Roman felt a sharp pain stab through his head, and he cried out for the pain to go away. The harder he resisted, the more intense the pain grew. He began losing control of his own thoughts.

And then, the pain was gone, and Roman felt numb.

He looked to his reflection in the picture window. His eyes looked dull and lifeless. He looked to Logan, whose eyes appeared to be about the same. He was surprised to find he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything. He couldn’t really feel or think anything for himself.

He looked to Hydall, who was still grinning, and his eyes flashed yellow as a single dark thought ran through Roman’s head.

**_That’s why you’ll be fighting_ ** **_with_ ** **_me._ **


	12. Wixen, Wars, and Second Chances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while and for the shorter update! Hope you enjoy :) (next chapter will be much longer, I promise)
> 
> We're reaching the end of this fic! Woot!

_[POV: 3rd (Ryden)]_

All Ryden could see was chaos.

It was surrounding the whole kingdom, choking their thoughts, reigning terror once again.

That yellow-eyed snake of a warlock was back.

And Ryden would be damned if he let his precious kingdom fall again.

He’d already lost so much. His parents, his siblings, his precious Avery. They were all gone.

All he had was his son.

But as Ryden raced to the study and found Roman, dull-eyed and sickly and showing none of his brightness, he realized that if he didn’t act quickly, he’d lose his only living family.

He was quite sure he’d go mad if that happened.

“Hello, Father,” Roman uttered, completely deadpan and void of life.

Ryden winced. “Hello, Hydall,” he sneered. “How are you doing today?”

“I’m not Hydall, I’m Roman,” ‘Roman’ replied. “And I’m doing fantastic.”

“Bullshit,” Ryden snapped. “You may look and talk like my son, but you’re not him. You’re Hydall, and you’ve taken over my son’s mind just like you did with my mother, and I will be _damned_ if you get to me!” He slammed the door of the study and bolted before ‘Roman’ could start a fight, but on his way down the stairs, he ran into his royal adviser, sword drawn and eyes cloudy. He skidded to a stop and drew his sword. Apparently Logan had been taken over as well.

“How mastered are you in fencing, ‘adviser’?” Ryden asked, moving himself into position.

“Mastered enough,” ‘Logan’ declared as he readied himself. “But to be honest, I think I’d rather just kill you.”

He swung at Ryden’s neck and Ryden ducked and jabbed at his opponent’s leg. After a few more rapid swings, Ryden ducked and rolled out of range. Using the tip of his sword, he stabbed into some mortar messily applied to a few broken bricks in the corridor wall. The bricks clattered to the ground, and luckily, one of them hit ‘Logan’s head. He almost immediately fell to the floor, unconscious. Ryden sheathed his sword and kept sprinting through the castle, out the gates, and through the village streets.

Everything was dark and cloudy, and the brainwashed civilians took jabs at him at every chance they got and with every object they could find. Ryden could smell the smoke and blood. By the time Ryden got to the edge of the village -- to the gate -- he was quite sure he’d been scratched on the face by a cheese grater and had scalding oil burning through his tunic and pants.

The lights were on in Jennifer’s house. Carefully, Ryden walked to the door and gave it two curt knocks. He heard muffled screaming coming from inside and Ryden realized that the door had been forced open and the wood surrounding the bent doorknob had been reduced to splinters. He carefully opened the door to find Jennifer tied to a chair, screaming through the cloth tightly wrapped around her mouth.  In front of her was a young boy with dirty-looking clothes and dim brown eyes. “Please, Your Majesty,” he begged, “help me untie this poor man.”

_Right. He’s a he. Sorry, Mr. Foster. I had forgotten._

“Alright,” he said cautiously. At the same time, Mr. Foster violently shook his head. As Ryden went to touch the ropes, lightning began coursing around them and a terrified Ryden fell backwards onto the ground. The boy stood above him now, smirking. His indigo eyes were glowing brightly. _A wixen. He must have disguised himself as a villager. Created an illusion. Clever._

Ryden knew a lot more about wixen than his son gave him credit for. As they say, you must keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Or, in Ryden’s case, knowledge of said enemies. He knew that no indigo wixen had more than one power. If the boy could make illusions, were the ropes actually electric? It wasn’t likely. In fact, it was downright impossible.

Ryden felt the aftermath of his initial shock leave his body with this realization and he smirked back. _Clever indeed, boy...but not clever enough._

He leapt to his feet and kicked the indigo boy where he knew it would hurt, and in his moment of agony, Ryden made quick work of the (completely harmless) ropes.

Ryden held out his sword toward the boy, whose arms were up in surrender. “I highly suggest you leave the village,” he grimaced, “before someone with a weapon more powerful than a sword and with less dignity than a king decides that ending your life is the best way to go about their evening.”

The boy dropped his arms and bolted. Mr. Foster collapsed out of the chair and fell onto his knees. Ryden extended an arm to help him up.

Mr. Foster bowed. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Of course, Mr. Foster,” Ryden replied, then in a hushed tone, “I know your name isn’t what it used to be, but I’ve forgotten what you’ve changed it to.”

Mr. Foster gave him a cautious smile. “It’s Patton.”

“Well then. Patton,” he continued, “I require your assistance. I need your help with something very dire.”

.o0o.

_[POV: Marin]_

_This isn’t going to end well, is it?_ I heard someone mentally grumble from a good distance away. I arched my eyebrow in confusion. Who had entered the gate? It wasn’t Roman; I had grown used to the presence of his thoughts.

I didn’t need to solve the mystery. Nia ran to me in a panic, eyes wide.

“It’s the king,” she whispered. “He comes with Harper Foster’s oldest grandson.”

Sure enough, when we gathered around the fire circle, King Ryden and Patton Foster were approaching the village center. Monica ran to Patton and threw her arms around him.

“Patton, my dear!” she exclaimed. “Look how you’ve grown! Oh, Harper would be so proud.”

Patton smiled as they pulled apart. “It’s good to see you again, Monica.”

“Why are you here?” Austin questioned, a bitter tone gracing their voice as Ryden stepped back. Austin stomped their foot into the ground and the soil around them became soaked. “You haven’t been here since your son was ten years old. What reason could you possibly have for coming to where you banished us?”

“Keep calm, Austin,” I reminded them before turning to the king. “Your Majesty,” I started. I kept my head high and my feet planted, despite the millions of fears racing through my stomach and my brain. “Please understand that we will not harm you unless you harm us. You needn’t be frightened.”

_Oh god oh god I’m scared they’re all terrifying. This was a mistake._

“You still are frightened, I see,” I sighed. I didn’t have to read his mind to notice his trembling knees and twitching eyes. “Why do you come here, Your Majesty? If not to be scared by us, then for what?”

To the surprise of all of us, Ryden fell to his knees at my feet and clasped his hands together, as if begging. Some let out audible gasps. Some only gasped in their thoughts. Either way, it scared me.

Ryden’s head hung to the ground as he started to speak.

“Marin. I know you have no reason on Earth to help me,” he professed. “Absolutely none. I’ve been terrible to you and your people. I wouldn’t want to help me either. So I understand if you refuse my request. But my kingdom…”

He trailed off, and then looked up at me, eyes wide with desperation. I did not fail to take notice of the blood on his face and the stains on his robes. “My kingdom has fallen into chaos. Hydall has infiltrated the palace defenses. He has seized the minds of everyone. My subjects. My council. My son. All of them are under his control. It’s a miracle I got here alive.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Virgil clench his fist.

Tears began to fill Ryden’s eyes. “If I lose...if I lose Roman, I don’t know what I’ll do. If Hydall wins this battle, all will be lost. So, in this act of desperation, I beg you to help me. Please.”

He bowed his head. “Even though you have no reason to.”

Silence.

Dead silence.

No voices could be heard. No thoughts were racing through the minds of my people, or Ryden and Patton. The quiet seemed to grow as the embers died.

And then, out of the silence,

_(POV: Virgil)_

“I will.”

I kneeled to the king and offered an arm to help him up. When we were on our feet, I let my lightning course through my left hand. “Roman…” _Roman is my light. My joy. The one person I held on to when I felt I was so, so, alone._

_Roman is my everything. And I love him. More than words can describe._

“Roman is my best friend,” I decided to say out loud. “If he’s in danger, then you bet your ass I’m going to fight.” I put my right hand to my heart, clenching my necklace. “I’m in.”

My mom smiled at me knowingly.  “Well, Your Majesty. If my son will fight, then so will I.”

Ryden smiled. “Thank you, Marin.”

Monica sighed. “I will, too. On one condition.”

“Anything,” Ryden agreed.

"You let us all back into the kingdom when everything is said and done,” she declared, holding out her calloused hand. “Granted there’s a kingdom left.”

Ryden shook it and gave her a curt nod. “Thank you.”

“Just to be clear, I’m doing this for Patton. In Harper’s honor. Not for you.”

“That’s perfectly fine,” Ryden said as he broke the handshake.

Kian and Leslie took each other’s hands and stepped forward, Talia behind them. “Where do we sign up?” Kian asked with a smirk. “I would absolutely _love_ to see that yellow-eyed snake get crushed.”

“And my brother,” Leslie muttered.

“I think this means we’re all in, Your Majesty,” Austin affirmed, holding out a hand

Ryden shook it, and I drew my sword.

“So,” I said. “Where’s the fight?”


	13. Glory, Grief, and Power

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (this is super rushed, btw. just a forewarning.)

_[POV: Virgil]_

 

It didn’t take us long to gather our small group of defenses and push forward to the castle. Ryden had suggested that in order to avoid the possessed villagers, we should sneak through the forest surrounding the kingdom’s borders. It was pitch black, with the exception of Monica and Joan lighting the way, their red-orange and white lights glowing dimly from their palms.

I felt useless, in a way. Like my magic didn’t mean anything. I could barely make electricity. Everyone surrounding me had unimaginable powers, and I...well. I barely had anything.

Leslie came to my side and warm red-violet light spilled from her palms in front of me.

“I know you hate the dark,” she simply said. The light cast harsh shadows on her face, making it hard to guess what she was feeling.

I gave her a two-fingered salute. “Thanks.”

Leslie looked to the ground for a moment, at our slowly-moving feet, and then back up at me. “You know...when we were younger...I didn’t mean any of it, right? Any of the mean stuff I said?”

I looked over at her with a puzzled expression as the leaves crunched beneath our feet. “You didn’t?”

“I only played along because Kian and Orion told me to,” she explained. “And I liked Kian, and didn’t want to make Orion angry, so.”

“Oh,” I said awkwardly. “Um...thanks.”

She turned to me. “I can’t believe it was him,” she hissed. “All this time, my brother’s been sneaking out and working with this asshole, and I had no idea. I just hate this.”

“How do you know it’s him?” I asked her.

“I’m not sure. He never told me anything. I think it’s one of those things where you just...know.”

We fell into silence, save for the crunching leaves and the occasional owl or rodent making a noise.

“Roman loves you, you know,” Leslie said suddenly.

I felt my face turn bright red. “W-what?” I squeaked.

“Roman. He loves you. He’s so in love with you. It’s disgusting.”

“You’re lying,” I immediately replied.

“I can see people’s love. I can feel it,” Leslie retorted. “I wouldn’t lie to you about this. Other things, maybe. Definitely. This? I’d never lie.”

She turned to me. “And I know you love him.”

“Because of course you do,” I remarked, rolling my eyes and flushing as the group approached the fence. “You’re a red-violet witch. It’s your thing.”

Leslie shook her head. “Not because of that. I mean, yeah, but that wasn’t how I really knew.”

“Then how did you?” I asked.

“ _Shhhh_ !” Austin hissed at us. “Ryden lost his key. Monica’s trying to concentrate so she can make another one. And people might hear us. _Hush_.”

We watched as Monica made quick work of her staff, shaping and transforming it into an intricate key. She handed it to Ryden, who climbed over the fence and unlocked the gate as soon as he was on the other side, because obviously there was no keyhole on our side, for the smartasses who might be asking why we didn’t escape before. As we all went through the gate, careful not to shock ourselves as we did, Leslie whispered to me, “It’s because you were brave.”

I looked at her strangely. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re the most scared person I know, Virgil,” she answered knowingly. “But for Roman? You drew your sword. You were brave.”

 

.o0o.

_[POV: Marin]_

 

No one’s thoughts were their own.

They were thinking as a unit, all of their thoughts plagued with black smoke and yellow glow. _Hydall,_ I heard Virgil think as he clenched his sword. 

He was right. Hydall was the only one who could reign terror to this extreme. 

Traveling through the kingdom to the palace was a blur. It was dark and clear, and it was like time sped up with us as we fought our way through the village streets. Most of us stayed behind to fend off the troops, but Virgil and I headed towards the palace. 

And when we got to bridge at the palace doors…

_[POV: Virgil]_

It was like time stopped.

Roman was standing there. Smiling. Eyes green as a curse. Leaning against the doorknobs without a care in the world. 

And he was looking straight at me.

I looked around. I could see the threatening silhouette of the castle up close, and the sky was littered with stars. I couldn’t see the moon at all. Roman’s eyes squinted, cutting off the glow. Even in the darkness I could see his smirk.

I tried to conjure some of my light, but it ended up coming out dim and flickering. I held it up between us as we stepped closer to each other, my mom in fighting stance behind me. Soon I was no longer than a sword’s length away from him.

I finally looked at his eyes. They were still glowing green, and cloudy, and dull. Devoid of life. The complete opposite of Roman’s bright brown orbs I fell in love with, the eyes that didn’t need to glow to light up a room.

“You don’t have to do this,” I said as calmly as I could muster. “I know you’re in there, Roman.”

“Oh, but _is_ he?” Roman responded. But it wasn’t him. It was like someone was trying to impersonate him, but badly. It was high and nasal and painful on the ears.

I fought through it. “This is just a trick,” I said. “A mind game. I know quite a few things about those.” 

I could feel my mom smiling from behind me.

“But _how_ can you _be_ sure?” ‘Roman’ asked. He even stressed the wrong words. “How do you know I’m not telling the truth?”

I saw his eyes darken. “Oh Virgil, you foolish boy,” he sneered. “You really thought he liked you, didn’t you.”

My eyes widened.

‘Roman’ gave me a cold stare. “He never really cared about you. Why would he? Why would anyone? You’re weak and pathetic. You mean nothing to him.”

“I know I do. He was my friend. I know I meant something to him!” I spit out a flurry of angry words. My head was starting to pound. Then ‘Roman’ said something completely different.

“Your demise would do so much for this kingdom.”

“How so?” I asked, nervousness lacing my voice. His threat didn’t irk me as much as I thought it would’ve.

“Well, it’s simple. Maybe, because you mean _so much_ to him, your death would be enough for your precious Roman to come around. Just imagine it. Your pale corpse, on the ground, with blood spilling everywhere. Roman, holding the blood-covered sword. His eyes fading back and him crying over you. Maybe your death will bring him back to life, dear Virgil.”

I froze. The whole world cut still.

_This is what Hydall did. To everyone in the royal family._

_I can’t fight it._

_But I have to try._

“That’s horrible. That’s such a horrible thing to think!” I yelled.

“Then perhaps your precious Roman wasn’t as good-hearted as you believed him to be,” ‘Roman’ replied in a sing-song voice. “Have you perhaps considered chopping off his -”

“Stop. _Stop,_ ” I begged, wincing and holding my head. “Why are you _doing_ this, Hydall?”

“Doing what?” ‘Roman’ asked innocently.

“ _This_ ,” I said desperately, gesturing to the kingdom. “You’ve taken control of every citizen and royal in the kingdom. All that’s left are Ryden, the wixen, and you. You’re causing all this chaos, wreaking all this havoc, putting all these awful thoughts into the minds of innocent people, and for what? _What is it all_ **_for_**?”

The magic in my words scared me. I stepped back. So did Hydall. 

“Why do you think?”

I gasped. That voice. _That_ was Roman. Hydall was speaking with the gentle voice I had turned to as I tried to sleep for countless nights. I had to fight back my anger. 

He smirked. The beauty mark at the corner of his lip turned into a half-moon. “Think about it. All of you were blind to the truth!” he exclaimed. “I started the war eighteen years ago because Valerie wasn’t doing her damn _job._ All the legends say she was a great, peaceful ruler who loved all wixen. She _used_ them. Took their powers and exploited them for her own benefit. And the wixen wouldn't fight back.”

His eyes turned cold. “I had to give them a reason to.”

“And look where that got us,” I snapped. “We were banished to the forest and we were treated like we were worthless.”

“Well, at least you saw the true colors of this kingdom!” Hydall snapped.

“All this fighting got us nowhere!” I snapped in return.

“Then maybe your death would bring the peace you so desire.”

“You can’t have both war and peace, Hydall!”

“Ah, but that’s the beautiful thing about death,” Hydall responded cooly. “It brings both.”

_There are so many conflicting statements,_ I realized. _He’s messing with your head_. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my mother nod.

Maybe he knew something about me that I didn’t.

“Then do it,” I heard myself declare. I heard my mother gasp. I gestured to her and she turned her back. “There’s no audience. It’s just you and me.”

“No one would ever know. No one would ever care.”

_He’s lying. Just play along._

“I know,” I said. I felt a wetness on my skin. Empty tears. I gripped my necklace with all my might, and all of the memories came rushing back in an instant. Roman coming back after years of absence. All the gifts he gave me. The teasing. The nicknames. The adventures. The misadventures. Our friendship. My love for him. The day we met, with his plastic sword and cake crumbs and unending kindness.

_They’re just memories. They’re in your head._

_But they’re real all the same._

I saw a tear fall onto the stone bridge as I fell to my knees. It took me a second too long to realize the tear was my own. My sword clattered next to me.

I felt Roman’s cold blade against my neck. “Time for you to go.”

I mustered up a small smile. “I know you’re in there. Somewhere. And Roman...just know that I love you. And I hope I meant something to you.”

I gripped the sword with my hand. I could feel my blood dripping onto the blade. “If this is what can save you, Princey, then I’ll let you do it. I’m not worthless if the end of my life saves yours.”

Dead.

Silence.

The whole world was frozen in time. The blade was still inches from my neck and my mother’s hair was frozen in the wind.

It was only then that I saw it.

_The bracelet._

It was still there.

I gripped my necklace with one hand as I reached my other out to touch it. 

_“I love you,”_ I whispered as I traced my fingers along the bead.

My necklace began to glow. The world above us filled with light. My mother, now unfrozen, began to cover her mouth with her hands. I slowly stood and followed her gaze to the sky.

Purple light shone down in soft beams through the clouds, lighting up the night sky. The brightest of the beams shone down on me, giving me a soft glow. I swear, if I squinted, I could see a pair of violet eyes blinking down on me from the sky.

 

And then I felt it. The magic coursing through my veins.

 

I summoned all my magic to try to make light -- and I almost blinded myself with its brightness. It was pure violet. Brighter, stronger, more alluring than any light I’d ever created. Liquid magic began pooling at my feet.

I froze. I had violet magic. Pure violet magic. That meant...I was a pure violet wixen. I was chosen. Me.

_Why?_

“Because you were willing to give up everything,” my mother answered. “You love him. And, though it seems trivial, love is the strongest form of magic.”

I held my necklace to my heart and looked around at this broken kingdom, full of brainwashed people. Under mind control. The other wixen -- my family -- were trying to stop them, but to no avail. They were losing. Getting injured. Scarred. They could die.

I knew I was the only person who could stop it.

_They can shake the whole world to its roots._

I gathered all of my energy into the soles of my feet…

_“Well, I think you deserve all the magic in the world, because you’re incredible. And I never want you to forget that.”_

Clenched my necklace…

_“I missed you more than the stars miss the sky, dear Virgil.”_

And planted my feet into the ground.

You could see it shake the kingdom. A ripple of violet light, threading through the cracks in the sidewalks like blood flows through veins.

Just as quickly as it had started, it was over. Time unfroze. My mother gasped. She ran to me and hugged me, stroking my cheek. She began to cry, ugly, messy tears. 

“I’m so proud of you, Virgil,” she whispered. "So, so proud. My boy."

In the distance, I could see the torn-up band of soldiers come towards me, all battered and bruised, but smiling.

“Hydall’s gone,” Leslie said with relief. “You scared him off. No one’s under mind control anymore.”

“You were amazing, kid,” Monica said. “I’ve never seen anything like that. You pretty much won the battle for us,” she added with a laugh.

I still hadn’t fully processed just how much I had managed to do with that one burst of magic. But I could feel the extra energy take its toll on my body. I felt my muscles give out and collapsed onto the ground, and Olive ran over and spread some of her pure little-kid healing magic through me. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to dull the pain. I smiled. “Thanks, Olive.”

I laid on my back on the cool stone of the bridge, looking up at the indigo sky. Warm yellows and reds were starting to creep through, and the stars were becoming less visible.

Through the midst of the wixen’s celebration and the commoners' confusion, one voice cut through all the others.

“Virgil?”

I heard the scuff of boots, the clattering of a sword falling onto stone, and then…

There he was. Eyes golden as a melody. Tear-filled, and staring right at me. _Roman._

He helped me to my feet and pulled me into a hug, warm and strong and safe. I wrapped my arms around him tightly and buried my face into the crook of his neck. I never wanted to let go.

But we had to. As we separated, Roman gasped and put his fingers near the outside corner of my eyes. “Virgil! Your _eyes!”_

_Oh shit._ “They’re purple now too, huh?”

“Yes, they are.” Roman gave me that soft smile that always made me blush. “They’re beautiful.”

His eyes widened with realization. It looked like everything that had happened while he had been under Hydall’s mind control had come back to him. The tears began to fall. “Oh my God.”

“Roman. It’s okay. It wasn’t you.”

“But you thought I would…” Roman took my hands in his. “No. None of what I said was true.”

I felt my knees start to shake. “Everything I said was.” 

Roman’s face softened and he took one of his hands to cup my cheek. “Oh, Virgil. I love you so much I can’t stand it.”

He smiled and blushed. “You really are beautiful. Inside and out. And I hope you know how much I care for you. How scared I get when you’re in danger. How much I want to protect you, all the time. I love you, Virgil. More than words could possibly describe."

A strange boost of confidence allowed me to lift my heels off the ground and close my eyes.

And when Roman’s lips finally touched mine, a surge of magic washed through me.

Maybe love was the strongest form of it.

 

.o0o.

_[POV: 3rd (Patton)]_

 

The sun had begun to rise. Patton stayed by the anxious king. After Ryden found and embraced his son ( _“I am so happy I can’t even speak,” he had said through his tears_ ) the trio -- as well as Virgil -- were all looking for the same person.

“He has to be somewhere,” Ryden reassured him as they walked toward the palace. 

“He better be,” Roman muttered, grabbing onto Virgil’s hand. “LOGAN!”

“WOODS!” Ryden provided. “Where are you?! Are you alright?”

No response. “LOGAN, I DIDN’T DO MY MATH HOMEWORK!” Roman tried again. Still nothing.

Patton felt his fists clench and tears started to stream down his face against his will. Logan had to be alive. He just had to be.

He couldn’t call out. His voice would break. 

Roman linked his arm through Patton’s. “We’ll find him, okay? I promise.”

Patton nodded, still afraid to speak.

Ryden put a hand on his shoulder. “J-Patton,” he corrected, “thank you for your help today. In talking to the wixen.”

“That was all you,” Patton replied with a grin.

“If there’s anything -- anything -- I can do to return that favor, let me know.”

Patton nodded. He already knew what he wanted, but he’d ask Ryden about surgery funding later.

“Is that him?” Virgil asked, pointing to a figure in the distance.

Patton’s eyes widened and he began to cry. Thank God. It was. His hair was a mess and his shirt was torn in a million different places. But that was his Logan. And he was alive.

Patton ran to Logan as he approached the bridge, and he kissed him with all the love he had. When they broke apart, they said at the same time, “You’re okay!”

They leaned their foreheads against each other and grabbed each other’s hands.

“You’re okay,” Logan said again, with much relief. Then, “You’re crying.” He wiped a stray tear from Patton’s cheek and Patton grabbed onto his hand.

“I’m just really happy,” Patton blubbered. “You’re okay, Logan. We’re okay. We’re all going to be okay.”

The five people -- three human, one wixen, one mixed, all scarred -- stood together and looked out over the hills, over the humans and wixen working together to repair the damage. They looked at the rose-amber sunrise. 

It was a new day. It was a new dawn.

Patton gently took Logan’s hand in his.

They were going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit, two oneshots and a chapter in one day...i didnt think i had it in me lol
> 
> so yeah, this is the final main chapter! there might be an epilogue but at this point I'm not sure. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has supported me via Kudos and comments -- it means so much to me. Thanks for coming along with me on this messy, magical journey! Until next time!
> 
> \- AAA

**Author's Note:**

> OK so there's a lOt of world-building and/or backstory to this AU and while I tried to allude to most of it in the story/in the world-building stuff, there's probably some stuff that I missed. Chapter 1 has all of the main concepts and backstory, so you can refer to that, but if you're confused about something, just ask your question nicely in the comments and I'll be happy to answer it for you!
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated!


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